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^ StP 15 ibtit 




Copyright, 1886, by 
C. J. Staples and C. R. Eliot. 


OF Congress 


ii'f r- r . 




A General Service i 

Prayers 7 

Life . 9 

The Life of the Body 11 

The Life of the Spirit 14 

The Deep Waters '. . . 15 

Sudden Death 18 

Trial and Suffering 20 

The Will of God 22 

Aspiration 25 

God our Comfort 27 

God our Refuge 30 

The Fruit of the Spirit 36 

Uprightness and Fidelity 36 

Wisdom and Worth . * 40 

Patience 51 

Gentleness and Love 53 

Friendship ^7 

Purity and Humility 59 

Joy and Faith 61 

Children 63 

Men and Women 66 

The Aged 69 

Life Immortal 71 





Life and Death 

Resignation — Trust 

A Good Life 

Suffering and Rest 

Childhood and Youth 

The Aged . 





This manual has been compiled in hope of assisting ministers and 
laymen in the task of preparing and conducting funeral services. 
Each occasion of bereavement is different from all others, and each 
funeral service requires special preparation. While, therefore, a 
** general service," containing selections appropriate to the majority 
of occasions, has been arranged, it is offered with the idea of being 
shortened and supplemented according to the judgment of the min- 
ister and the special circumstances that may arise. For this purpose 
we have brought together all passages of scripture which seemed 
appropriate, and have grouped them under various headings, so that 
anyone, with comparatively little trouble, can form the special service 
he needs. 

While the manual is compiled with reference to its use at funerals, 
it is hoped that the selections here made, of prose and poetry, may be 
of service, also, as devotional readings, in the sick room or elsewhere. 

The choice of poems was not an easy task. Many favorites will be 
missed, no doubt, and it cannot be hoped that the poems given will 
be of equal value to all. We have selected, as far as possible, those 
which have already proved their fitness for such uses. 

With very few exceptions, the poems are given without change, 
since every clergyman will feel at liberty to make his own alterations, 
if they are deemed necessary. For lack of space, however, many of 
the poems have been shortened by the omission of stanzas irrelevant 
to funeral occasions. Such will be found marked with a star in the 


index of first lines. We have not printed hymns easily accessible in 
the Revised Hymn and Tune Book of the American Unitarian Asso- 
ciation, though many of them are specially appropriate. 

A supplementary list of poems which may be found serviceable 
with slight changes, has been added. Selections from extra-biblical 
scriptures, and from various writers, ancient and modern, have also 
been made, in the belief that they will be useful, if not as readings 
in the service itself, then as suggestive thoughts. A few prayers, 
original and selected, are given for the use of laymen called upon to 
conduct funeral services. 

The compilers are indebted to the kindness of many friends for the 

suggestions they have made and the assistance they have given.. 

Special acknowledgment is due to Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 

Roberts Brothers, and others, for their courtesy in permitting the 

use of copyright poems. 





Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all gener- 
ations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or 
ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even 
from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God. Thou 
turnest man to destruction ; and sayest. Return, ye chil- 
dren of men. For a thousand years in thy sight are but 
as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night. 
Thou carriest them away as with a flood ; they are as a 
sleep : in the morning they are like grass which groweth 
up. In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up ; in 
the evening it is cut down, and withereth. The days of 
our years are three score years and ten ; and if by reason 
of strength they be four score years, yet is their strength 
labor and sorrow ; for it is soon cut off', and we flv 
away. So teach us to number our days, that we 

may apply our hearts unto wisdom. O satisfy us early 
with thy mercy ; that we may rejoice and be glad all 
our days. Make us glad according to the days wherein 
thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we have 
seen evil. Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and 
thy glory unto their children. And let the beauty of the 
Lord our God be upon us : and establish thou the work 
of our hands upon us ; yea, the work of our hands estab- 
lish thou it. 


Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full 
of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut 
down : he fleeth also as a shadow^, and continueth 
not. Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created : 

and thou renewest the face of the earth. Thou hidest 
thy face, they are troubled : thou takest away their 
breath, they die, and return to their dust. For all 
men have one entrance into life, and the like going 
out. Ye know not what shall be on the morrow. 

For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appear- 
eth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. For we 
know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that 
which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall 
be done away. For now w^e see through a glass, darkly ; 
but then face to face : now I know in part ; but then 
shall I know evea as also I am known. 

O Lord, I know that the way of man is not in himself: 
it is not in that walketh to direct his steps. The 

floods have lifted up, O Lord ; the floods have lifted up 
their voice ; the floods lift up their waves. Deep calleth 
unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts : all thy waves 
and thy billows are gone over me. I am so troubled 

that I cannot speak. I call to remembrance my song in 
the night ; I commune with mine own heart. Will the 
Lord cast off' forever ? and will he be favourable no more ? 
Hath God forgotten to be gracious? And I said. This 
is my infirmity : but I will remember the years of the 
right hand of the Most High. Woe is me for my 

hurt ! my vs^ound is grievous : but I said, Ti'uly this is a 
grief, and I must bear it. Not as I will, but as thou 
wilt ; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak ; 
O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, 
except I drink it, thy will be done. 


The Lord is my light and my salvation ; whom shall 
I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life ; of whom 
shall I be afraid? The Lord is good, a strong hold in 
the day of trouble ; and he knoweth them that trust in 
him. Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord 
pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame, 
he remembereth that we are dust. Hast thou not 

known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, 
the Lord, the creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, 
neither is weary? there is no searching of his understand- 
ing. He giveth power to the faint ; and to them that 
have no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths 
shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly 
fall. But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their 
strength ; they shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they 
shall run, and not be weary ; and they shall walk, and 
not faint Wait on the Lord : be of good courage 

and he shall strengthen thine heart : wait, I say, on the 

The Lord is my shepherd ; I shall not want. He 
maketh ine to lie down in green pastures : he leadeth me 
beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul : he leadeth 
me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, 
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil : for thou art with me : thy rod and 
thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table 

before me in the presence of mine enemies : thou anoint- 
est my head with oil ; my cup runneth over. Surely 
goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my 
life : and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. 

Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life : 
he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall 


he live ; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall 
nev^r die. Let not your heart be troubled : ye be- 

lieve in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house 
are many mansions : if it w^ere not so, I would have told 
you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go 

and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and re- 
ceive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be 

We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain that 
we can carry nothing out. The Lord gave, and the 

Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the Lord. 

But as touching the resurrection of the dead, have ye 
not read that which was spoken unto you by God, saying, 
I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the 
God of Jacob .^ God is not the God of the dead, but of 
the living. 

But some man will say, How are the dead raised up? 
and with what body do they come ? That which thou 
sowest is not quickened, except it die : and that which 
thou sowest, thou spwest not that body that shall be, but 
bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or of some other 
grain : but God giveth it a body as it has pleased him, 
and to every seed his ov^n body. There is one glory 

of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another 
glory of the stars ; for one star differeth from another star 
in glory. So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is 
sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption ; it is 
sown in dishonour, it is raised in glory : it is sown in 
weakness, it is raised in power : it is sown a natural body, 
it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, arid 
there is a spiritual body. As is the earthy, such are they 
also that are earthy : and as is the heavenly, such are they 


also that are heavenly. And as we have borne the image 
of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heav- 
enly. Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood 
cannot inherit the kingdom of God ; neither can corrup- 
tion inherit incorruption. For this corruptible must put 
on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. 
So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, 
and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then 
shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death 
is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? 
O grave, w^here is thy victory? The sting of death is 
sin ; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to 
God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
Christ. Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, 
un movable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, 
forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain in 
the Lord. 

I reckon that the sufferings of the present time are not 
worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be re- 
vealed to us. For eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor the 
heart of man conceived, the things which God hath pre- 
pared for them that love him. Our light affliction, which 
is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceedinp; 
and eternal weight of glory ; while we look not at the 
things which are seen, but at the things which are not 
seen ; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the 
things which are not seen are eternal. For w^e know 
that, if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, 
we have a building of God, a house not made with 
hands, eternal in the heavens. Whom the Lord 

loveth, he chasteneth. If ye endure chastening, God deal- 


eth with you as with sons. Now no chastening for the 
present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless, 
afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness 
unto them that are exercised thereby. The trying of your 
faith worketh patience. Submit yourselves to God, 
and the Lord will raise you up. 

And I saw a new^ heaven and a new earth ; for the first 
heaven and the first earth were passed away ; and there 
was no more sea. And I heard a o^reat voice out of 
heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with 
men, and he will dwell w^ith them, and they shall be his 
people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their 
God. And God shall wipe away all tears from their 
eyes ; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow., 
nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain : for the 
former things have passed away. And he that sat 

upon the throne said. Behold I make all things new. 
I am Alpha and. Omega, the beginning and the end. 
I will eive unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the 
water of life freely. He that overcometh shall inherit 
all things ; and I will be his God, and he shall be my 
son. And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto 

me. Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord 
from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, that they may 
rest from their labors ; and their works do follow 
them. And, behold, I come quickly; and my 

reward is with me, to give every man according as his 
works shall be. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning 
and the end, the tirst and the last. Blessed are they 
that do his commandments, that they may have right 
to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates 
into the citv. 



Almighty God, we come to thee because we need 
thee. Without thee we are poor and weak, and with 
thee we can be brave and strong. We bow ourselves 
before thy will. We yield ourselves to thy law. Thou 
sendest forth thy Spirit, we are created ; thou takest 
away our breath, we die and return to the dust. In 
death as in life, in sorrow as in joy, thou art Vv'aiting to 
bless us, if we will but turn to thee. Thou dost gird 
and guide us, though we know it not ; and the shadow 
with which thou darkenest our way is but the shadow of 
thy close-approaching and over-brooding presence. 

Help us to find thee thus this day. Lead us from our 
weakness to thy strength, and from our ignorance to 
thy wisdom, and give to us the peace and confidence 
which walks in the darkness even as in the light. It is 
thou who dost take to thyself the life of this, thy servant. 
Help us to say and to believe that it is well, — well 
with the life which seems to go away, because it finds 
thy rest and peace, and well for us who stay, because of 
tender memories and Christian hopes. In the midst of 
grief and solitude give to us the prayer of gratitude and 
praise. As we perceive that the things which are seen 
are temporal, so much the more may we find that the 
things which are unseen are eternal. Strengthen in us 
that immortal hope which is ours in the discipleship of 
Jesus. Make us know that if our earthly house be 
dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made 
with han:ls, eternal in the heavens ; and. amid the suffer- 
ings of this present time, unveil to us the things which 
eye hath not seen, but which God hath prepared for 
them that love him. 

Sanctify thus to these hearts the sorrow which thou 


dost call upon them to bear. May they hear that voice 
which says, '^ Blessed are they that mourn, for they 
shall be comforted." As they walk through the valley 
of the shadow of death, may thy rod and staff support 
them, and may they be grateful for that Eternal Love 
w^hich summons souls to rest from their labors, and dost 
permit them to enter into thy peace. Send us all back 
to our lives more eager to serve thee, and more inclined 
to love thee, as though in this mysterious presence w^e 
had learned to know the deeper meaning and responsi- 
bility of life. Amid the changes of this world make us 
strong and calm, because we rest in thee, and finally 
persuade us that neither death nor life, nor things present, 
nor things to come, shall be able to separate us from the 
love of God which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen, 
F. G. P. 


O Father, wx would not forget thy benefits. For 
life w^e thank thee ; the throbbing life of Nature ; the 
quick-beating pulse of human hearts, the swift flight of 
the spirit's prayer, the life eternal. For love w^e thank 
thee ; that love which, from childhood onward, has been 
ours, blessing us, saving us, creating us anew. For hope 
w^e thank thee, and for light ; for all that quickens faith ; 
for the mind and heart of Christ ; for the in-flowing of 
thy Spirit. 

O God, we call thee, and thou art here. We are not 
strong ; grant us thy strength. We cannot see ; grant 
us thy light. We do not know the way ; lead us, O 
Father, by thy Spirit. We falter, we wander, we dare 
not speak ; only teach thou us to pray. So, in us, and 
through us, may thy kingdom come, and thy w^ill be 
done. Am 2)1, C. A\ E. 




The ungodly said, reasoning with themselves, but not 
aright. Our life is short and tedious, and in the death 
of a man there is no remedy : neither was there any man 
known to have returned from the grave. For we are 
born at all adventure : and we shall be hereafter as 
though we had never been : for the breath in our nostrils 
is as smoke, and a little spark in the moving of our 
heart : which being extinguished, our body shall be 
turned into ashes, and our spirit shall vanish as the soft 
air, and our name shall be forgotten in time, and no 
man shall have our works in remembrance, and our life 
shall pass away as the trace of a cloud, and shall 
be dispersed as a mist, that is driven away with the 
beams of the sun, and overcome with the heat thereof. 
For our time is a very shadow that passeth away ; and 
after our end there is no returning : for it is fast sealed, 
so that no man cometh again. Come on therefore, 

let us enjoy the good things that are present : and let us 
speedily use the creatures like as in youth. Let us fill 
ourselves with costly wine and ointments : and let no 
flower of the spring pass by us : let us crown ourselves 
with rosebuds, before they be withered : let none of us 
go without his part of our voluptuousness : let us leave 
tokens of our joyfulness in every place : for this is our 
portion, and our lot is this. Such things they did 

imagine, and were deceived : for their own wickedness 
hath blinded them. As for the mysteries of God, they 
knew them not : neither hoped they for the wages 
of righteousness, nor discerned a reward for blameless 
souls. For God created man to be immortal, and 


made him to be an image of his own eternity. [ Wis- 
dom II.'] 

The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, 
and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of 
the unwise they seemed to die : and their departure is 
taken for misery, and their going from us to be utter 
destruction : but they are in peace. For though they 
be punished in the sight of men, yet is their hope full of 
immortality. And having been a little chastised, they 
shall be greatly rewarded : for God proved them, and 
found them worthy for himself. As gold in the furnace 
hath he tried them, and received them as a burnt 
offering. [ Wisdoin ill.'] 

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every 
2)urpose under the heaven : a time to be born, and a 
time to die ; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that 
which is planted ; a time to kill, and a time to heal ; a 
time to break down, and a time to build up ; a time to 
weep, and a time to laugh ; a time to mourn, and a time 
to dance ; a time to rend, and a time to sew ; a time to 
keep silence, and a time to speak ; a tune to love, 
and a time to hate ; a tune of war, and a time of 
peace. What profit hath he that worketh in that 

w^herein he laboreth? I have seen the travail, w^hich 
God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised 
in it. He hath made every thing beautiful in his 
time : also he hath set the world in their heart, so that 
no man can find out the work that God maketh from the 
beginning to the end. I know that there is no good in 
them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his 
life. And also that every man enjoy the good of all 


bis labor, it is the gift of God. I know that, wliat- 
soever God doeth, it shall be forever: nothing can be 
put to it, nor any thing taken from it : and God doeth 
it, that men should fear before him. That which hath 
been is now ; and that which is to be hath already 
been ; and God requireth that which is past. \_EccL ziL~\ 

O death, how bitter is the remembrance of thee to a 
man that liveth at rest in his possessions, unto the man 
that hath nothing to vex him. and that hath prosperity 
in all things : yea, unto him that is yet able to receive 
meat ! O death, acceptable is thy sentence unto the 
needy, and unto him whose strength faileth, that is now 
in the last age, and is vexed with all things, and to him 
that despaireth, and hath lost patience I Fear not the 
sentence of death, remeinber them that have been before 
thee, and that come after ; for this is the sentence of the 
Lord over all flesh. \^EcchLS, xU.~\ 

None of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to 
himself. For whether we live, we live unto the Lord ; 
and whether we die, we die unto the Lord : whether we 
live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's. \_Ro7n, xiv.'\ 


Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full 
of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut 
down : he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth 
not. \_Job xiv.'] One dieth in his full strength, being 
wholly at ease and quiet. And another dieth in the bit- 


terness of his soul, and never eateth with pleasure. They 
shall lie down alike in the dust, and the worms shall 
cover them. \_Job xxir\ As the cloud is consumed and 
vanisheth away ; so he that goeth down to the grave 
shall come up no more. He shall return no more to his 
house, neither shall his place know him any more. \^Job 
v/i.^ For all men have one entrance into life, and the like 
going out. [ Wisdo?7i viz .~\ Here have ^ve no continuing 
city, but we seek one to come. \^Heb, xnL~\ Now my 
days are swifter than a post : they are passed away as the 
swift ships : as the eagle that hasteth to the prey. \_Job ix.~\ 
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle. \_Job viz.'] 
As the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, there is but 
a step betw^een me and death. \_i Sam. xx,~\ 

If he set his heart upon man, if he gather unto himself 
his spirit and his breath ; all flesh shall perish together, 
and man shall turn again unto dust. In a moment shall 
they die, and the people shall be troubled at midnight, 
and pass away : and the mighty shall be taken away 
without hand. For his eyes are upon the ways of man, 
and he seeth all his goings. There is no darkness, nor 
shadow^ of death, w^here the workers of iniquity may hide 
themselves. For he will not lay upon man more than 
right ; that he should enter into judgment with God. 
\_Job xxxz'v.^ 

The voice said. Cry. And he said, What shall I cry.? 
All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the 
flower of the field: the grass withereth, the flower fad- 
eth ; because the spirit of the Lord blow^eth upon it : 
surely the people is grass. The grass withereth, the 


flower fadeth : but the word of our God shall stand for- 
ever. [ Isa, xir^ 

A man's heart deviseth his way : but the Lord directeth 
his steps. [ Prov. xvi.~\ For what man is he that can 
know the counsel of God? or who can think what the 
will of the Lord is ? For the thoughts of mortal men are 
miserable, and our devices are but uncertain. For the 
corruptible body presseth down the soul, and the earthy 
tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon 
many things. And hardly do we guess aright at things 
that are upon earth, and with labor do we find the 
things that are before us : but the things that are in 
heaven who hath searched out? And thy counsel who 
hath known, except thou give wisdom and send thy 
Holy Spirit from above ? For so the wavs of them which 
lived on the earth ^vere reformed, and men were taught 
the things that are pleasing unto thee, and were saved 
through wisdom. [ Wisdom /v.] 

Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure of 
my days, what it is ; that I may know how frail I am. 
Behold, thou hast made my days as a handbreadth ; and 
mine age is as nothing before thee : verilv every man at 
his best state is altogether vanity. Surely every man 
walketh in a vain show : surely they are disquieted in 
vain : he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall 
gather them. And now. Lord, what wait I for? my 
hope is in thee. Deliver me from all my transgressions. 
I was dumb, I opened not my mouth ; because thou didst 
it. Remove thy stroke away from me : I am consumed 
b}' the blow of thine hand. Vrhen thou with rebukes 


dost correct man for iniquity, thou makest his beauty to 
consume away like a moth : surely every man is vanity. 
Hear my prayer, O Lord, and give ear unto my cry : hold 
not thy peace at my tears : for I am a stranger with thee, 
and a sojourner, as all my fathers were. O spare me, 
that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be 
no more. [_jPs. xxxlx,^ 


There is a spirit in man : and the inspiration of the 
Almighty giveth them understanding. \_Job xxxiz,~\ 

Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life : 
he that believeth in me, though he wxre dead, yet shall 
he live : and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall 
never die. \^Joh?i jv/.] Verily, verily, I say unto you, 
He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent 
me, hath eternal life, and shall not come into condem- 
nation ; but is passed from death unto life. \^Jo/i?z v.~\ 
For bodily exercise profiteth little : but godliness is prof- 
itable unto all things, having promise of the life that now 
is, and of that which is to come. [7 Tizjz. iv.~\ In the 
way of righteousness is life ; and in the pathway thereof 
there is no death. \_Prov, xn.~\ 

Labor not for the meat which perisheth, but for that 
meat which endureth unto eternal life, which the Son 
of man shall give unto you : for him hath God the Father 
sealed. Verilv, verily, I say unto you, Moses gave you 
not that bread from heaven : but my Father giveth you 
the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he 


which Cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto 
the world. Then said they unto him, Lord, evermore 
give us this bread. And Jesus said unto them, I am the 
bread of life : he that cometh to me shall never hunger ; 
and he that believeth on me shall never thirst. Verih', 
verily, I say unto you. He that believeth on me hath 
everlasting life. I am that bread of life. Your fathers 
did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead. This is 
the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man 
may eat thereof, and not die. \_John v{.~\ 

Jesus answered and said unto her, Whosoever drinketh 
of this water shall thirst again ; but whosoever drinketh 
of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst ; but 
the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of 
water springing up into eternal life. \_Joh7t ivJ\ 

Behold I come quickly ; and my reward is with me, to 
give every man according as his works shall be. I am 
Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first 
and the last. Blessed are they that do his commandments, 
that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter 
in through the gates into the city. And the Spirit and 
the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth sav, 
Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whoso- 
ever will, let him take the water of life freely. ^^Rev^xxiir^ 


Save me, O God ; for the waters are come in unto my 
soul. I am come into deep waters, where the floods 
overflow me. \^Ps. lxix.'\ The floods have lifted up, O 


Lord, the floods have Hfted up their voice ; the floods 
lift 11^3 their waves. \^Ps. xciii.'] Deep calleth unto 

deep at the noise of thy v^aterspouts : all thy waves 
and thy billows have gone over me. [^J^s, xUL~\ The 
Lord on high is mightier than the noise of inany waters, 
yea, than the mighty waves of the sea. \^Ps* xciii,'\ 

O Lord God of my salvation, I have cried day and 
night before thee : let my prayer come before thee : 
incline thine ear unto my cry : for my soul is full of 
troubles : and my life draweth nigh unto the grave. I 
am counted with them that go down into the pit : I am 
as a man that hath no strength : mine eve mourneth by 
reason of affliction : Lord, I have called daily upon thee, 
I have stretched out my hands unto thee. Wilt thou 
shew wonders to the dead ? shall the dead arise and 
praise thee? Shall thy loving-kindness be declared in 
the grave ? or thy faithfulness in destruction ? Shall thy 
wonders be known in the dark ? and thy righteousness 
in the land of forgetfulness ? But unto thee have I cried, 

Lord ; and in the morning shall my prayer prevent 
thee. Lord, why castest thou oft' my soul.^ Why hidest 
thou thy face from me? \_Ps, IxxxviiL'] Hide not thy 
face from thy servant ; for I am in trouble : hear me 
speedily. \_Ps, Ixzx.'] 

Woe is me for my hurt ! my wound is grievous : but 

1 said. Truly this is a grief, and I must bear it. My 
tabernacle is spoiled, and all my cords are broken : my 
children are gone forth of me, and they are not : there is 
none to stretch forth my tent any more, and to set up 
my curtains. O Lord, I know that the way of man^ is 
not in himself: it is not in man that walketh to direct 


his steps. O Lord, correct me, but with judgment : not 
in thine anger, lest thou bring me to nothing. \_Jer, 

Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold, and 
see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is 
done unto me, wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me. 
\_Lafn. /.] I am so troubled that I cannot speak. I have 
considered the days of old, the years of ancient times. 
I call to reinembrance my song in the night : I commune 
with mine own heart: and my spirit made diligent 
search. Will the Lord cast off for ever? and will he be 
favorable no more? Is ]iis mercy clean gone for ever? 
doth his promise fail for evermore? Hath God for- 
gotten to be gracious? hath he in anger shut up his 
tender mercies? And I said. This is my infirmity: but 
I will remember the years of the right hand of the Most 
High. \_Ps. lxxvii\~\ 

It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go 
to the house of feasting : for that is the end of all men ; 
and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is better 
than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance 
the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is 
in the house of mourning : but the heart of fools is in 
the house of mirth. In the day of prosperity be joyful, 
but in the day of adversity consider : God also hath 
set the one over against the other, to the end that man 
should find nothing after him. \_Sccl. vtz,~\ 

Although affliction cometh not forth of the dust, neither 
doth trouble spring out of the ground : yet man is born 
unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward. \_Job v,'] 



Boast not thyself of to-morrow ; for thou knowest not 
what a day may bring forth. \^Prov. xxv/i.] But, be- 
loved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is 
with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years 
as one day. The Lord is not slack concerning his prom- 
ise, as some men count slackness : but is long-suftering 
to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that 
all should come to repentance. But the day of the Lord 
, will come as a thief in the night ; in the which the heav- 
ens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements 
shall melt with fen^ent heat, the earth also and the works 
that are therein shall be burned up. Seeing then that all 
these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons 
ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness, 
looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of 
God, wherein the heavens being on fire shall be dissolved, 
and the elements shall melt with fervent heat? Never- 
theless we, according to his promise, look for new heav- 
ens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. 
Wherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for such things, 
be diligent that ye may be found of him in peace, w^ith- 
out spot, and blameless. [2 J^eL zu.'\ 

But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the 
angels of heaven, but my Father only. But as the days of 
Noah were, so shall also the coming of the Son of man be. 
For as in the days that were before the flood they were 
eating and drinking, marrying, and giving in marriage, 
until the day that Noah entered into the ark, and knew 
not until the flood came, and took them all aw^ay ; so 


shall also the coming of the Son of man be. Then 
shall two be in the field ; the one shall be taken, and 
the other left. Two w^omen shall be grinding at the 
mill ; the one shall be taken, and the other left. Watch 
therefore ; for ye know not what hour your Lord 
doth come. But know this, that if the goodman of the 
house had known in what watch the thief would come, 
he would have watched, and would not have suffered his 
house to be broken up. Therefore be ye also ready : for 
in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh. 
Who then is a faithful and wise servant, whom his lord 
hath made ruler over his household, to give them meat in 
due season? Blessed is that servant, whom his lord 
when he cometh shall find so doing. Verily I say unto 
you, that he shall make him ruler over all his goods. 
\^Matt, xxiv,'\ 

Go to now, ye that say, To-day or to-morrow^, we will 
go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy 
and sell, and get gain. Whereas ye know notwdiat shall 
be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a 
vapor, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth 
away. \^Jas, iv.'\ Now my days are swifter than a post : 
they flee away : they are passed away as the swift ships. 
\^Job ix,'\ My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle. 
\^Job viz,'] As the Lord liveth and as thy soul liveth, 
there is but a step between me and death, [z Sa77i, xx."] 
Yet I w^ill say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my for- 
tress : my God ; in him will I trust. Thou shalt not be 
afraid for the terror by night ; nor for the arrow that flieth 
by day ; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness ; 
nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday. For he 


shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all 
thy ways. [/^^. xci,^ 

I must work the works of nim that sent me, w^hile it is 
day : the night cometh, when no man can work. [ John ix.'\ 
Watch ye therefore : for ye know not when the master 
of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight, or at the 
cockcrowing, or in the morning : lest coming suddenly 
he find you sleeping. And what I say unto you I say 
unto all, Watch. \^Mark xiii,~\ 


Blessed is the man that endureth temptation : for when 
he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the 
Lord hath promised to them that love him. \_Jas, /.] 

I heard, but I understood not : then said I, O my 
Lord, what shall be the end of these things.'^ And he 
said. Go thy way, Daniel : for the words are closed up 
and sealed till the time of the end. Many shall be puri- 
fied, and made white, and tried ; but the wricked shall 
do wickedly : and none of the wicked shall understand ; 
but the wise shall understand. Blessed is he that w^alteth. 
But go thou thy way till the end be : for thou shalt rest, 
and stand in thy lot at the end of the days. \_Da7i. xiz,'] 

Then came to him the mother of Zebedee's children 
w^ith her sons, w^orshipping him, and desiring a certain 
thing of him. And he said unto her. What wilt thou .^ 
She saith unto him. Grant that these my two sons. may 
sit, the one on thy right hand, and the other on the left, 


in thy kingdom. But Jesus answered and said, Ye know 
not what ye ask. Are ye able to drink of the cup that I 
shall drink of, and to be baptized with the baptism that 
I am baptized with? They say unto him. We are able. 
And he saith unto them, Ye shall drink indeed of my cup, 
and be baptized with the bajDtism that I am baptized with : 
but to sit on my right hand, and on my left, is not mine 
to give, but it shall be given to them for whom it is pre- 
pared of my Father. [^AfaU. xx,l^ For we are laborers 
together with God : ye are God's husbandry, ye are God's 
building. According to the grace of God which is given 
unto me, as a wise masterbuilder, I have laid the foun- 
dation, and another buildeth thereon. But let every man 
take heed how he buildeth thereupon. For other foun- 
dation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus 
Christ. Now if any man build upon this foundation gold, 
silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble ; every man's 
work shall be made manifest : for the day shall declare 
it, because it shall be revealed by fire ; and the fire shall 
try every man's work of what sort it ir>. If any man's 
work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall re- 
ceive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned, he 
shall suffer loss : but he himself shall be saved ; yet so 
as by fire. Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, 
and that the spirit of God dwelleth in you ? If any man 
defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy ; for the 
temple of God is holy, w^hich temple ye are. [i Cor. iii.^ 
Behold, I come quickly : hold that fast w^hich thou 
hast, that no man take thy crown. Him that overcometh 
will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall 
go no more out : and I will write upon him the name of 
my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new 


Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my 
God : and I will write upon him my new name. \_Rev. 
til.'] To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree 
of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God. 
\_Rev. iL~\ 

Wherefore, my beloved, as ye have always obeyed, 
not as in my presence only, but now much more in my 
absence, work out your own salvation with fear and 
trembling : for it is God w^hich worketh in you both to 
will and to do of his good pleasure. \_PhiL iz.~\ 


Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Geth- 
semane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here, while 
I go and pray yonder. And he went a little further, and 
fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it 
be possible, let this cup pass from me : nevertheless, not 
as I will, but as thou wilt. And he cometh imto the 
disciples, and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, 
What, could ye not watch with me one hour.^ Watch 
and pray, that ye enter not into temptation : the spirit 
indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. He went away 
again the second time, and prayed, saying, O my Father, 
if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, 
thy will be done. \_Matt, xxvi,'] 

There hath no temptation taken you but such as is 
common to man : but God is faithful, who will not suffer 
you to be tempted above that ye are able ; but will with 


the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may 
be able to bear it. [i Coi-. x.'\ Beloved, think it not 
strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, 
as though some strange thing happened unto you : but 
rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's suffer- 
ings ; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be 
glad also with exceeding joy. [i Peter iv,] Behold, 
I have refined thee, but not with silver ; I have chosen 
thee in the furnace of affliction, \_/sa. xlvii/.] It is 
good for me that I have been afflicted ; ihat I might 
learn thy statutes. \^Ps. cxix.^ 

Ye have forgotten the exhortation which speaketh 
unto you as unto children. My son, despise not thou the 
chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked 
of him : for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and 
scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye endure 
chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons ; for 
what son is he whom the father chasteneth not.^ Fur- 
thermore, we have had fathers of our flesh which cor- 
rected us, and we gave them reverence : shall wt not 
much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits, 
and live ? For they verilv for a few days chastened us 
after their own pleasure ; but he for our profit, that we 
might be partakers of his holiness. Now no chastening 
for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous : 
nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of 
righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby. 
Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the 
feeble knees ; and m.ake straight paths for your feet, lest 
that which is lame be turned out of the way ; but let it 
rather be healed. Follow peace with all men, and 


holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord. 
\^Heb. xii,'\ 

Behold, happy is the man wdiom God correcteth : 
therefore despise not thou the chastening of the Al- 
mighty : for he maketh sore, and bindeth up : he 
woundeth and his hands make whole. He shall deliver 
thee in six troubles : yea, in seven there shall no evil 
touch thee. In famine he shall redeem thee from death : 
and in war from the power of the sword. Thou shalt 
be hid from the scourge of the tongue : neither shalt thou 
be afraid of destruction when it cometh. \Job z'.j 

My son, if thou come to serve the Lord, prepare thy 
soul for temptation. Set thy heart aright, and constantly 
endure, and make not haste in time of trouble. Cleave 
unto him, and depart not away, that thou mayest be in- 
creased at thy last end. Whatsoever is brought upon thee 
take cheerfully, and be patient when thou art changed to 
a low estate. For gold is tried in the fire, and acceptable 
men in the furnace of adversity. Believe in him, and 
he will help thee ; order thy way aright, and trust in 
him. Ye that fear the Lord, wait for his mercy; 
and go not aside, lest ye fall. Ye that fear the Lord, 
believe him ; and your reward shall not fail. Ye that 
fear the Lord, hope for good, and for everlasting joy and 
mercy. Look at the generations of old, and see ; did 
ever any trust in the Lord, and was confounded? or did 
anv abide in his fear, and was forsaken ? or whom did he 
ever despise, that called upon iiim ? For the Lord is full of 
compassion and mercy, longsufibring, and very pitiful, and 
forgiveth sins, and saveth in time of affliction. Woe 


be to fearful hearts, and faint hands, and the sinner that 
^oeth two ways I Woe unto him that is faint-hearted ! for 
lie believeth not ; therefore shall he not be defended. 
Woe unto you that have lost patience ! and what w^ill 
ye do when the Lord shall visit you ? They that fear 
the Lord wall not disobey his word ; and they that love 
him will keep his ways. They that fear the Lord will 
seek that which is well-pleasing unto him ; and they that 
love him shall be filled with the law. They that fear the 
Lord will prepare their hearts, and humble their souls in 
his sight, saying. We w411 fall into the hands of the 
Lord, and not into the hands of men : for as his maj- 
esty is, so is his mercy. \^Eccliis iiJ\ 


Unto thee, O Lord, do I lift up my soul. O my God, 
I trust in thee : turn thee unto me, and have mercy upon 
me ; for I am desolate and afflicted. The troubles of my 
heart are enlarged : O bring thou me out of my distresses. 
Look upon mine affliction and my pain : and forgive all 
my sins. O keep my soul, and deliver me : for I put my 
trust in thee. \_Ps. xxv.'\ 

Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord. 
Lord, hear my voice : let thine ears be attentive to the 
voice of my supplications. If thou. Lord, shouldest 
mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand? But 
there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mavest be 
feared. I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and 
in his w^ord do I hope. My soul waiteth for the Lord 
more than they that watch for the morning : yea, more 


than they that watch for the morning. Let Israel hope 
in the Lord : for with the Lord there is mercy, and with 
him is plenteous redemption. And he shall redeem 
Israel from all his iniquities. [/^^. cxxx,'] 

Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving- 
kindness : according unto the multitude of thy tender 
mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thor- 
oughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my 
sin. Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a 
right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy 
presence ; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Re- 
store unto me the joy of thy salvation ; and uphold me 
with thy free Spirit. The sacrifices of God are a broken 
spirit : a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou 
wilt not despise. [/^^. //.] 

Hear my cry, O God ; attend unto my prayer. From 
the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart 
is overwhelmed : lead me to the rock that is higher than I. 
For thou hast been a shelter for me, and I will trust in the 
covert of thy wings. ^J^s. Ixi.~\ Be merciful unto me, O 
God, be merciful unto me : for my soul trusteth in thee : 
yea, in the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, 
until these calamities be overpast. \_Ps, Ivn.'] O send 
out thy light and thy truth : let them lead me ; let them 
bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles. 
\_Ps. xliiL'] , Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there 
is none upon eartli that I desire besides thee. My flesh 
and my heart faileth : but God is the strength of my heart, 
and my portion for ever. \_Ps, lxxnL~\ 


As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth 
my soul after thee, O Gpd. My soul thh'steth for God, 
for the living God : when shall I coine and appear before 
God ? My tears have been my meat day and night, while 
they continually say unto me. Where is thy God? When 
I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me ; 
for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to 
the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with 
a multitude that kept holy day. Why art thou cast down, 
O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? hope 
thou in God : for I shall yet praise him for the help of his 
countenance. O my God. my soul is cast down within 
me : therefore will I remember thee. Deep calleth unto 
deep at the noise of thy waterspouts : all thy waves and 
thy billows are gone over me. Yet the Lord will com- 
mand liis loving-kindness in the daytime, and in the night 
his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God 
of my I i fe . [ Ps . xlii. ") 

Into thine hand I commit my spirit: thou hast re- 
deemed me, O Lord God of truth. \_Ps, xxxL~\ 


Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all 
comfort, who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that 
we may be able to comfort them which are in any 
trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are 
comforted of God. \_2 Co?-. t.~\ 

Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, 
and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and 


learn of me ; for I am meek and lowly in heart : and ye 
shall find rest unto your souls.. For my yoke is easy, 
and my burden is light. [_Matt. xi,'] 

Wait on the Lord : be of good courage, and he shall 
strengthen thine heart : wait, I say, on the Lord. 
[_J^s. XXV a. ~\ The Lord hath appeared of old unto me, 
saying. Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting 
love : therefore w^ith loving-kindness have I drawn thee. 
\_Jer. XXXI.'] For I know the thoughts that I think 
toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not 
of evil, to give you hope in your latter end. Then shall 
ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and 
I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find 
me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart. 
\_Jer, XXIX, ] As one whom his mother comforteth, so 
will I comfort you, and ye shall be comforted in Jeru- 
salem. \^Isa, Ixvi,] For the Lord will not cast off' for 
ever : but though he cause grief, yet w^ill he have com- 
passion according to the multitude of his mercies. For 
he doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of 
men. \_Lai7z. iiiJ\ 

If ye love me, keep my commandments. And I will 
pray the Father, and he shall give you another Com- 
forter, that he may abide with you for ever ; even the 
Spirit of truth ; whom the world cannot receive, because 
it seeth him not, neither knoweth him : but ye know him ; 
for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you. I will 
not leave you comfortless ; I will come to you. Yet a 
little while, and the world seeth me no more ; but ye see 
me : because I live, ye shall live also. At that day ye 


shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and 
I in you. [John xiv.~\ 

The Lord is my light and my salvation ; whom shall I 
fear? the Lord is the strength of my life ; of whom shall 
I be afraid? Though a host should encamp against me, 
my heart shall not fear : though war should rise against 
me, in this will I be confident. One thing have I 
desired of the Lord, that will I seek after ; that I may 
dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to 
behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his tem- 
ple. For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his 
pavilion : in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide 
me ; he shall set me up upon a rock. And now shall 
mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about 
me : therefore w\\\ I offer in his tabernacle sacrifices of 
joy ; I will sing, yea, T will sing praises unto the Lord. 
Hear, O Lord, when I cry with my voice; have mercy, 
also upon me, and answer me. When thou saidst, Seek 
ye my face ; my heart said unto thee. Thy face. Lord, 
will I seek. Hide not thy face far from me ; put not thy 
servant away in anger : thou hast been my help ; leave me 
not, neither forsake me, O God of my salvation. When 
my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will 
take me up. Teach me thy way, O Lord, and lead me 
in a plain path. I had fainted, unless I had believed to 
see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. 

\_I^S, XXV 1 1\^ 



God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in 
trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth 
be removed, and though the mountains be carried into 
the midst of the sea ; though the waters thereof roar and 
be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swell- 
ing thereof. There is a river, the streams whereof shall 
make glad the city of God, the holy place of the taber- 
nacles of the Most High. God is in the midst of her: 
she shall not be moved : God shall help her, and that 
right early. Be still, and know that I am God : I will 
be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the 
earth. The Lord of hosts is with us : the God of Jacob 
is our refuge. \_Ps. xlvi,'\ 

The Lord is good, a strong hold in the day of 
trouble ; and he knoweth them that trust in him. 
S^Nah. /.] Do not err, my beloved brethren. Everv 
good gift and every perfect gift is from above, 
and cometh down from the Father of lights, with 
whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. 
\^Jcis. /.] Truly my soul ^vaiteth upon God : from 
him cometh my salvation. He only is my rock and 
my salvation : he is my defence ; I shall not be greatlv 
moved. My soul, wait thou only upon God ; trust in him 
at all times ; ye people, pour out your heart before him : 
God is a refuge for us. \_Ps. lxii,~\ When the poor 
and needy seek water, and there is none, and their 
tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them. I the 
God of Israel will not forsake them. \^Isa. x/i.'] O Israel, 
Fear not : for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee 



by thy name ; thou art mine. When thou passest 
through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the 
rivers, they shall not overflow thee : when thou walkest 
through the fire, thou shalt not be burned ; neither shall 
the flame kindle upon thee. For I am the Lord thy 
God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour. \^Isa. xliii,'\ 

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is 
stayed on thee : because he trusteth in thee. Trust ye 
in the Lord for ever : for in the Lord our God is ever- 
lasting strength. \^Isa. xxvi,'\ It is of the Lord's mercies 
that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail 
not. They are new every morning : great is thy faith- 
fulness. The Lord is my portion, saith my soul ; there- 
fore will I hope in him. The Lord is good unto them 
that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is 
good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for 
the salvation of the Lord. \_Lam, uL~\ 

Hast thou not known ? hast thou not heard, that the 
everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the 
earth, fainteth not, neither is weary .^ there is no search- 
ing of his understanding. He giveth power to the faint ; 
and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. 
Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young 
men shall utterly fall : but they that wait upon the Lord 
shall renew their strength ; they shall mount up with 
wings as eagles ; they shall run, and not be weary ; and 
they shall walk, and not faint. \_Isa, xl.~\ 

For the whole world before thee is as a little grain of 
the balance, yea, as a drop of the morning dew that fall- 
eth down upon the earth. But thou hast mercy upon all ; 


thou lovest all the things that are, and abhorrest nothing 
which thou hast made : for never wouldest thou have 
made anything, if thou hadst hated it. And how^ could 
anything have endured, if it had not been thy w^ill? or 
been preserved, if not called by thee? But thou sparest 
all : for they are thine, O Lord, thou lover of souls. 
[ Wisdom xi.~\ 

O Lord, thou hast searched me, and know^n me. 
Thou knov\rest my downsitting and mine uprising ; thou 
understandest my thought afar off. Thou compassest 
my path and my lying dow^n, and art acquainted v^^ith 
all my vs^ays. For there is not a vs^ord in my tongue, 
but, lo, O Lord, thou know^est it altogether. Thou 
hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand 
upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me ; it 
is high, I cannot attain unto it. Whither shall I go from 
thy Spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? 
If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there : if I make my 
bed in the grave, behold, thou art there. If I take the 
wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of 
the sea ; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right 
hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall 
cover me ; even the night shall be light about me. Yea, 
the darkness hideth not from thee ; but the night shineth 
as the day : the darkness and the light are both alike to 
thee \_Ps, cxxxix.'] 

He that dvvelleth in the secret place of the Most High 
shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will 
say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress : my 
God; in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee 


from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pes- 
tilence. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and 
under his wrings shalt thou trust : his truth shall be thy 
shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afii*aid for the 
terror by night ; nor for the arrow that flieth by day : 
nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness ; nor for 
the destruction that wasteth at noonday. A thousand 
shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand ; 
but it shall not come nigh thee. Because thou hast made 
the Lord, which is my refuge, even the Most High, thy 
habitation ; there shall no evil befall thee, neither shall 
any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For he shall give 
his angels charge over thee, to keep thee m all thy ways. 
They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash 
thy foot against a stone. [Ps. xci.^ 

The righteous cry, and the Loi^d heareth, and deliv- 
ereth them out of all their troubles. The Lord is nigh 
unto them that are of a broken heart ; and saveth such 
as be of a contrite spirit. Many are the afflictions of the 
righteous : but the Lord delivereth him out of them all. 
The Lord redeemetli the soul of his servants : and 
none of them that trust in him shall be desolate. 
\^Ps. xxxiv.] The Lord looseth the prisoners : the 
Lord openeth the eyes of the blind : the Lord raiseth 
them that are bowed down : the Lord loveth the rio^ht- 
eous : the Lord preserveth the strangers ; he relieveth 
the fatherless and widow. [iRy. cx/v/.^ For this God is 
our God for ever and ever : he will be our guide even 
unto death. \_Ps. xlviii.^ 

The number of a man's days at the most are an hun- 


clred years. As a drop of water unto the sea, and a 
gravelstone in comparison of the sand ; so are a thousand 
years to the days of eternity. Therefore is God patient 
with them, ^id poureth forth his mercy upon them. He 
saw and perceived their end to be evil ; therefore he 
multiphed his compassion. The mercy of man is 
toward his neighbor ; but the mercy of the Lord is upon 
all flesh : he reproveth, and nurtureth, and teacheth, 
and bringeth again, as a shepherd his flock. \^Ecchis, 
xviii,~\ They cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and 
he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh 
the storm a calm, so that the weaves thereof are still. 
Then are they glad because they be quiet : so he bringeth 
them unto their desired haven. \^Ps. cvu.~\ 

Ask, and it shall be given unto you ; seek, and ye shall 
find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you : for every 
one that asketh receiveth ; and he that seeketh findeth ; 
and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. Or what 
man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will 
he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give 
him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know^ how to 
give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall 
your Father which is in heaven give good things to 
them that ask him? \_Matt. vi/.'] And fear not them 
which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul : 
but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul 
and body. Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? 
and one of them shall not fall on the ground without 
your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all 
numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value 
than many sparrows. \_A/atL :v.] 


Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your 
life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink ; nor yet 
for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life 
more than meat, and the body than raiment? Be- 
hold the fowls of the air : for they sow not, neither do 
they reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your heavenly 
Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than 
they? Which of you by taking thought can add one 
cubit unto his stature? And why take ye thought for 
raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they 
grow ; they toil not, neither do they spin : and yet I say 
unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not 
arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe 
the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is 
cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, 
O ye of little faith? \_Matt, vi,'\ 

The Lord is my shepherd ; I shall not want. He 
maketh me to lie down in green pastures : he leadeth 
me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul : he 
leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's 
sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the 
shadow of death, I will fear no evil : for thou art with 
me ; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou pre- 
parest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies : 
thou anointest my head with oil ; my cup runneth over. 
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the 
days of my life : and I will dwell in the house of the 
Lord for ever. \^Ps. xxiiiJ\ 



So is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast 
seed into the ground ; and should sleep, and rise night 
and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he 
knoweth not how. For the earth bringeth forth fruit 
of herself ; first the blade, then the ear, after that the full 
corn in the ear. \^3Iark zv.'] But the fruit of the Spirit 
is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, good- 
ness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there 
is no law. And they that are Christ's have crucified the 
flesh with the affections and lusts. If we live in the Spirit, 
let us also walk in the Spirit. \^GaL z?.] Be not de- 
ceived ; God is not mocked : for whatsoever a man 
soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to 
his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption ; but he that 
soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life ever- 
lasting. And let us not be weary in wxll doing : for in 
due season we shall reap, if we faint not. [_Gal. vi.~\ 


Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle ? \vho shall 
dwell in thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and 
w^orketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. 
He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to 
his neighbor, nor taketh up a i*eproach against his neigh- 
bor. In whose eyes a vile person is contemned ; but 
he honoreth them that fear the Lord. He that swear- 
eth to his own hurt, and changeth not, nor taketh reward 
against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall 
never be moved. \_Ps. xv,~\ 


Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who 
shall stand in" his holy place? He that hath clean hands, 
and a pure heart ; who hath not lifted up his soul unto 
vanity, nor sworn deceitfully. He shall receive a bless- 
ing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of 
his salvation. This is the generation of them that seek 
him, that seek thy face, O God of Jacob. Lift up your 
heads, O ye gates ; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting 
doors ; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is 
this King of glory? The Lord of hosts, he is the King 
of glory. [_I^s. xxiv.~\ 

The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord : 
and he delighteth in liis way. Though he fall, he shall 
not be utterly cast down : for the Lord upholdeth him 
with his hand. I have been young, and now am old ; 
yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed 
begging bread. Mark the perfect man, and behold 
the upright: for the end of that man is peace. [_Ps. 

These are the things that ye shall do ; speak ye every 
man the truth to his neighbor ; execute the judgment of 
truth and peace in your gates : and let none of you 
imagine evil in your hearts against his neighbor ; and 
love no false oath : for all these are things that I hate, 
saith the Lord. \_Zeck, vh'i.'] Execute true judgment, 
and shew mercy and compassion every man to his 
brother. \_Zeck. viz,'] 

Enter ye in at the strait gate : for wide is the gate, 
and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and 
many there be which go in thereat : because strait is the 


gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, 
and few there be that find it. Not every one that saith 
unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of 
heaven ; but he that doeth the will of my Father which 
is in heaven. Therefore, whosoever heareth these say- 
ings of mine and doeth them, I will liken him unto a 
wise man, which built his house upon a rock : and the 
rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds 
blew, and beat upon that house ; and it fell not : for it 
was founded upon a rock. And every one that heareth 
these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be 
likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon 
the sand : and the rain descended, and the floods came, 
and the winds blew, and beat upon that house ; and it 
fell : and great was the fall of it. \^J\IaU, vi'i,^ 

Who then is a faithful and wise servant, whom his 
lord hath made ruler over his household, to give them 
meat in due season? Blessed is that servant, whom his 
lord when he cometh shall find so doing. \^A/a^L xxzv,~\ 

Beware of false prophets, which come to you in 
sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. 
Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather 
grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good 
tree bringeth forth good fruit ; but a corrupt tree bring- 
eth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil 
fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. 
Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn 
down, and cast into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits 
ye shall know them. \_Matt, viz,'] For whosoever shall 
do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same 
is my brother, and sister, and mother. \_Afa^L xu,] 


I know thy works, and chanty, and service, and faith, 
and thy patience, and thy works ; and the last to be 
more than the first. \^Rev. zi.~\ Well done, thou good 
and faithful servant : thou hast been faithful over a few 
things, I will make thee ruler over many things ; enter 
thou into the joy of thy Lord. \_Afatt. xxv.'] 

Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of 
the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor 
sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in 
the law of the Lord ; and in his law doth he meditate 
day and night. Axid he shall be like a tree planted by 
the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his 
season ; his leaf also shall not wither ; and whatsoever 
he doeth shall prosper. \_Ps. ?'.] 

What things were gain to me, those I counted loss for 
Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss 
for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my 
Lord : for whom I have sufi^ered the loss of all things, 
and do count them but refuse, that I may win Christ, and 
be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, 
w^hich is of the law, but that which is through the faith 
of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith : 
that I may know him, and the po\yer of his resurrection, 
and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made con- 
formable unto his death ; if by any means I might attain 
unto the resurrection of the dead. Not as though I had 
already attained, either ^vere already perfect : but I fol- 
low after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I 
am apprehended of Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not 
myself to have apprehended : but this one thing I do, 
forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching 


forth unto those things which are before, I press toward 
the mark for the prize of the high caUing of God in 
Christ Jesus. \_PhiL iii,~\ 

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, what- 
soever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, 
whatsoever things are pure, w^hatsoever things are lovely, 
whatsoever things are of good report ; if there be 
any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these 
things. \_Phil. iv,'\ For the memorial of virtue is im- 
mortal : because it is known with God, and with men. 
When it is present, men take example at it ; and when 
it is gone, they desire it: it weareth a crown, and tri- 
umpheth for ever, having gotten the victory, striving for 
undefiled rewards. [ Wisdoin ivJ\ 

Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter : fear 
God, and keep his commandments : for this is the whole 
duty of man. For God shall bring every w^ork into 
judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, 
or whether it be evil. ^Eccl. xn,~\ 


Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man 
fallen this day in Israel? \_2 Sam, tn.~\ For, behold, 
the Lord, the Lord of hosts, doth take away from Jeru- 
salem and froin Judah the stay and the staff, the whole 
stay of bread, and the whole stay of water, the mighty 
man, and the man of war, the judge, and the prophet, 
and the prudent, and the ancient, the captain of fifty, 
and the honorable man, and the counsellor, and the cun- 


ning artificer, and the eloquent orator. [ Isa, iii.'\ In a 
moment shall they die, and the people shall be troubled 
at midnight, and pass away : and the mighty shall be 
taken away without hand. \_Job xxxiv,^ There is no 
king saved by the multitude of a host : a mighty man 
is not delivered by great strength. \^jPs. xxxi'ii.^ All 
ye that are about him, bemoan him, and all ye that know 
his name, say, How is the strong staff broken, and the 
beautiful rod ! \^Jer, xlvilL'] 

And David lamented with this lamentation ; The beau- 
ty of Israel is slain upon thy high places : how are the 
mighty fallen ! Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be 
no dew, neither let there be rain, upon you, nor fields 
of offerings : for there the shield of the mighty is vilely 
cast away, the shield of Saul, as though he had not been 
anointed with oil. How are the mighty fallen in the 
midst of the battle ! How are the mighty fallen, and 
the weapons of war perished I [2 Sam, iJ\ 

Let us now praise famous men, and our fathers that 
begat us. The Lord hath wrought great glory by them 
through his great power from the beginning. Such as 
did bear rule in their kingdoms, men renowned for their 
power, giving counsel by their understanding, and de- 
claring prophecies : leaders of the people by their coun- 
sels, and by their knowledge of learning meet for the 
people, wise and eloquent in their instructions : such as 
found out musical tunes, and recited verses in wanting : 
rich men furnished with ability, living peaceably in their 
habitations : all these were honored in their generations, 
and were the glory of their times. There be of them, 
that have left a name behind them, that their praises 


might be reported. And some there be, which have no 
memorial ; who are perished, as though they had never 
been ; and are become as though they had never been 
born ; and their children after them. But these were 
merciful men, whose righteousness hath not been forgot- 
ten. With their seed shall continually remain a good 
inheritance, and their children are wathin the covenant. 
Their seed standeth fast, and their children for their 
sakes. Their seed shall remain for ever, and their glory 
shall hot be blotted out. Their bodies are buried in 
peace ; but their name liveth for evermore. The people 
will tell of their wisdom, and the congregation will shew 
forth their praise. [_JScclus. xliv.~\ 

Moreover Job continued his parable, and said : When 
T w^ent out to the gate through the city, w4ien I prepared 
my seat in the street, the young men saw me, and hid 
themselves, and the aged arose, and stood up. The 
princes refrained talking, and laid their hand on their 
mouth. The nobles held their peace, and their tongue 
cleaved to the roof of their mouth. When the ear 
heard me, then it blessed me : and when the eye saw 
me, it gave witness to me : because I delivered the poor 
that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to 
help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish 
came upon me ; and I caused the widow's heart to sing 
for joy. I put on righteousness, and it clothed me ; my 
judgment was as a robe and a diadem. I was eyes to 
the blind, and feet was I to the lame. I was a father to 
the poor : and the cause which I knew not I searched 
out. And I brake the jaws of the wicked, and plucked 
the spoil out of his teeth. Then I said, I shall die in 


my nest, and I shall multiply my days as the sand. My 
root was spread out by the waters, and the dew lay all 
night upon my branch. My glory w^as fresh in me, and 
my bow was renewed in my hand. Unto me men gave 
ear, and waited, and kept silence at my counsel. After 
my words they spake not again ; and my speech dropped 
upon them. And they waited for me as for the rain; 
and they opened their mouth wide as for the latter rain. 
If I laughed on them, they believed it not: and the light 
of my countenance they cast not down. I chose out 
their way, and sat chief, and dwelt as a king in the 
army, as one that comforteth the mourners. \^Job xxixJ\ 

Blessed be the name of God for ever and ever : for 
wisdom and might are his : and he changeth the times 
and the seasons : he removeth kings, and setteth up kings : 
he giveth wisdom unto the wise, and knowledge to them 
that know understanding : he revealeth the deep and 
secret things : he knoweth what is in the darkness, and 
the light dwelleth with him. \^Dan. iir\ 

He that giveth his mind to the law of the Most High, 
and is occupied in the meditation thereof, will seek out 
the wisdom of all the ancient, and be occupied in prophe- 
cies. He will keep the sayings of the renowned men : 
and where subtile parables are, he will be there also. 
He will seek out the secrets of grave sentences, and be 
conversant in dark parables. He shall serve among great 
men, and appear before princes : he will travel through 
strange countries ; for he hath tried the good and the evil 
among men. He will give his heart to resort earlv to 
the Lord that made him, and will pray before the Most 


High, and will open his mouth in prayer, and make 
supplication for his sins. When the great Lord will, he 
shall be filled with the spirit of understanding : he shall 
pour out wise sentences, and give thanks unto the Lord 
in his prayer. He shall direct his counsel and knowl- 
edge, and in his secrets shall he meditate. He shall shew 
forth that which he hath learned, and shall glory in the 
law of the covenant of the Lord. Many shall commend 
his understanding ; and so long as the world endureth, 
it shall not be blotted out ; his memorial shall not 
depart away, and his name shall live from generation to 
generation. Nations shall shew forth his wisdom, and 
the congregation shall declare his praise. If he die, he 
shall leave a greater name than a thousand : and if he 
live, he shall increase it. \_Ecclus, xxxz'x.'] 

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom : 
and the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding. 
[/Vc^'. IX. ^ And unto man he said, Behold, the fear 
of the Lord, that is wisdom ; and to depart from evil is 
understanding, \_yod xxviii,~\ 

Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man 
that getteth understanding : for the merchandise of it 
is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain 
thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than 
rubies : and all the things thou canst desire are not to be 
compared unto her. Length of days is in her right 
hand ; and in her left hand riches and honor. Her ways 
are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. 
She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her ; and 
happy is every one that retaineth her. My son, keep 
sound wisdom and discretion : so shall they be life unto 


thy soul, and grace to thy neck. Then shalt thou walk 
in thy way safely, and thy foot shall not stumble. 
When thou liest down, thou shalt not be afraid : yea, 
thou shalt lie down, and thy sleep shall be sweet. Be 
not afraid of sudden fear, neither of the desolation of 
the wricked, when it cometh. For the Lord shall be thy 
confidence, and shall keep thy foot from being taken. 
\^Frov^ ill,'] 

Hear, ye children, the instruction of a father, and 
attend to know understanding. For I give you good 
doctrine, forsake ye not my law. For I was my father's 
son, tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother. 
He taught me also, and said unto me, Let thine heart 
retain my words : keep my commandments, and live. 
Get wisdom, get understanding : forget it not ; neither 
decline from the words of my mouth. Forsake her not, 
and she shall preserve thee : love her, and she shall keep 
thee. Wisdom is the principal thing ; therefore get wis- 
dom : and with all thy getting get understanding. Exalt 
her, and she shall promote thee : she shall bring thee to 
honor, when thou dost embrace her. She shall give to 
thine head an ornament of grace : a crown of glory shall 
she deliver to thee. Hear, O iny son, and receive my 
sayings ; and the years of thy life shall be many. I 
have taught thee in the way of wisdom ; I have led thee 
in right paths. When thou goest, thy steps shall not 
be straitened ; and when thou runnest, thou shalt not 
stumble. Take fast hold of instruction ; let her not go : 
keep her ; for she is thy life. \_Proz\ iz\~\ 

For wisdom, wdiich is the w^orker of all things, taught 


me : for in her is an understanding spirit, holy, one 
only, manifold, subtile, lively, clear, undefiled, plain, not 
subject to hurt, loving the thing that is good, quick, 
which cannot be letted, ready to do good, kind to man, 
steadfast, sure, free from care, having all power, over- 
seeing all things, and going through all understanding, 
pure, and most subtile, spirits. For wisdoin is more 
moving than any motion : she passeth and goeth through 
all things by reason of her pureness. For she is the 
breath of the power of God, and a pure influence flow- 
ing from the glory of the Almighty : therefore can no 
defiled thing fall into her. For she is the brightness of 
the everlasting Hght, the unspotted mirror of the power 
of God, and the image of his goodness. And being but 
one, she can do all things : and remaining in her she 
maketh all things new : and in all ages entering into 
holy souls, she maketh them friends of God, and proph- 
ets. For God loveth none but him that dwelleth with 
wisdom. For she is more beautiful than the sun, and 
above all the order of the stars : being compared with 
the light, she is found before it. For after this cometh 
night : but vice shall not prevail against wisdom. [ UYs- 
dom vii,~\ 

Unto you therefore, O kings, do I speak, that ye may 
learn wisdom, and not fall away. For they that keep 
holiness holily shall be judged holy : and they that have 
learned such things shall find what to answer. Where- 
fore set your affection upon my words ; desire them, and 
ye shall be instructed. Wisdom is glorious, and never 
fadeth away : yea, she is easily seen of them that love 
her, and found of such as seek her. Whoso seeketh her 


early shall have no great travail : for he shall find her 
sitting at his doors. To think therefore upon her is 
perfection of vs^isdom : and whoso watcheth for her shall 
quickly be without care. For she goeth about seeking 
such as are worthy of her, sheweth herself favorably unto 
them in the ways and meeteth tli^m in every thought. 
For the very true beginning of her is the desire of disci- 
pline, and the care of discipline is love ; and love is the 
keeping of her laws ; and the giving heed unto her laws 
is the assurance of incorruption ; and incorruption mak- 
eth us near unto God : therefore the desire of wisdom 
bringeth to a kingdom. [ Wisdom vz.~\ 

And the child Samuel ministered unto the Lord before 
Eli. And the word of the Lord was precious in those 
days ; there was no open vision. And it came to pass at 
that time, when Eli was laid down in his place, and his 
eyes began to wax dim, that he could not see ; and ere 
the lamp of God went out in the temple of the Lord, 
where the ark of God was, and Samuel was laid down 
to sleep ; that the Lord called Samuel : and he answered. 
Here am I. And he ran unto Eli, and said, Here am I ; 
for thou calledst me. And he said, I called not; lie 
down again. And he went and lay down. And the 
Lord called yet again, Samuel. And Samuel arose and 
went to Eli, and said. Here am I ; for thou didst call 
me. And he answered, I called not, my son ; lie down 
again. And the Lord called Samuel again the third 
time. And he arose and went to Eli, and said, Here am 
I ; for thou didst call me. And Eli perceived that the 
Lord had called the child. Therefore Eli said unto 
Samuel, Go, lie down ; and it shall be, if he call thee, 


that thou shalt say, Speak, Lord ; for thy servant heareth. 
So Samuel went and lay down in his place. And the 
Lord came, and stood, and called as at other times, Sam- 
uel, Samuel. Then Samuel answered. Speak; for thy 
servant heareth. [z Sam, ni,~\ 

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him 
that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace ; that 
bringeth good hidings of good, that publisheth salvation ; 
that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth ! [_Isa, ///.] 

Behold my servant, whom I uphold ; mine elect, in 
whom my soul delighteth ; I have put my Spirit upon 
him : he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles. He 
shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard 
in the street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the 
smoking flax shall he not quench : he shall bring forth 
judgment unto truth. He shall not fail nor be discour- 
aged, till he have set judgment in the earth : and the 
isles shall wait for his law. Thus saith God the Lord, 
he that created the heavens, and stretched them out; he 
that spread forth the earth, and that w^hich cometh out 
of it ; he that giveth breath unto the people upon it, and 
spirit to them that walk therein : I the Lord have called 
thee in righteousness, and will hold thine hand, and will 
keep thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, 
for a light of the Gentiles ; to open the blind eyes, to 
bring out the prisoners from the prison, and them that 
sit in darkness out of the prison house. \_Isa, xlzt.~\ 

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me ; because the 
Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the 
meek ; he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted. 


to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of 
the prison to them that are bound ; to proclaim the 
acceptable year of the Lord, to comfort all that mourn ; 
to appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto 
them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the 
garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness ; that they 
might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of 
the Lord, that he might be glorified. \_Isa, lxi.'\ 

This man w^as instructed in the way of the Lord ; and 
being fervent in the spirit, he spake and taught diligently 
the things of the Lord. \^Acts xvtii.~\ For he was a 
good man, and full of the Holy Spirit and of faith : and 
much people was added unto the Lord. \_Acts xL~\ And 
moreover, because the Preacher was wise, he still taught 
the people knowledge ; yea, he gave good heed, and 
sought out, and set in order many proverbs. The 
Preacher sought to find out acceptable words, and that 
which was written uprightly, even words of truth. 
[^JBccl, xiz.~\ 

He that speaketh truth sheweth forth righteousness : 
but a false witness deceit. There is that speaketh like the 
piercings of a sword : but the tongue of the wise is 
health. The lip of truth shall be established for ever : 
but a lying tongue is but for a moment. Deceit is in the 
heart of them that imagine evil ; but to the counsellors 
of peace is joy. [ Prov. xii.~\ The steps of a good man 
are ordered by the Lord ; and he delighteth in his way. 
Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down : for 
the Lord upholdeth him with his hand. The righteous 
shall inherit the land, and dwell therein for ever. The 
mouth of the righteous speaketh wisdom, and his tongue 


talketh of judgment. The law of his God is in his heart ; 
none of his steps shall slide. [P^. xxxvzz.'] 

The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life ; and he that 
winneth souls is wise. \_Prov. xz.~\ And they that be 
wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament ; and 
they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for 
ever and ever. \_Z)a7z xzz.~\ And when the chief Shep- 
herd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory 
that fadeth not away. \_i Peter ^'.] Mark the perfect 
man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man 
is peace. \_Ps, xxxvzz',~\ 

Blessed is that man that maketh the Lord his trust, 
and that respecteth not the proud, nor such as turn aside 
to lies. Many, O Lord, my God, are thy wonderful 
works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which 
are to us-ward : they cannot be reckoned up in order 
unto thee : if I would declare and speak of them, they 
are more than can be numbered. Sacrifice and offering 
thou didst not desire ; burnt offering and sin offering 
hast thou not required. Then said I, Lo, I come : in 
the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do 
thy will, O my God : yea, thy law is w^ithin my heart. 
I have preached righteousness in the great congregation : 
lo, I have not refrained my lips, O Lord, thou knowest. 
I have not hid thy righteousness within my heart ; I 
have declai*ed thy faithfulness and thy salvation : I have 
not concealed thy loving-kindness and thy truth from the 
great congregation. Withhold not thou thy tender mer- 
cies from me, O Lord : let thy loving-kindness and thy 
truth continually preserve me. Let all those that seek 
thee, rejoice and be glad in thee : let such as love thy sal- 
vation say continually. The Lord be magnified. \_Ps, xL~\ 



Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with 
God through our Lord Jesus Christ : by whom also we 
have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, 
and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only 
so, but we glory in tribulations also ; knowing that tribu- 
lation worketh patience ; and patience, experience ; and 
experience, hope : and hope maketh not ashamed ; 
because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by 
the Holy Spirit which is given unto us. \_Rom, v.~\ For 
this is thankworthy, if a man for conscience toward God 
endure grief, suffering wrongfully. For what glory is 
it, if, when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it 
patiently? but if, when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye 
take it patiently, this is acceptable with God. For even 
hereunto were ye called : because Christ also suffered 
for you, leaving you an example, that ye should follow 
his steps. [7- Peter iiJ\ 

We then, as workers together with him, beseech you 
also that ye receive not the grace of God in vain. But 
in all things approving ourselves as the ministers of God, 
in much patience, in afflictions, in necessities, in dis- 
tresses, in stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults, in 
labors, in watchings, in fastings ; by pureness, by knowl- 
edge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Spirit, 
by love unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the power of 
God, by the armor of righteousness on the right hand 
and on the left, by honor and dishonor, by evil report 
and good report : as deceivers, and yet true ; as 
unknown, and yet well known ; as dying, and, behold. 


we live ; as chastened, and not killed ; as sorrowful, yet 
always rejoicing ; as poor, yet making many rich ; 
as having nothing, and yet possessing all things. 
[2 Cor, viJ\ 

Sm'ely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sor- 
rows ; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, 
and afflicted. But he was w^ounded for our transgres- 
sions, he was bruised for our iniquities : the chastisement 
of our peace was upon him ; and with his stripes we are 
healed. \_Isa, liii.~\ 

Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the 
Lord. Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the pre- 
cious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, 
until he receive the early and latter rain. Be ye also 
patient, stablish your hearts : for the coming of the 
Lord draweth nigh. Murmur not one against another, 
brethren, lest ye be condemned : behold, the judge 
standeth before the door. Take, my brethren, the proph- 
ets, who have spoken in the name of the Lord, for an 
example of suffering, affliction, and patience. Behold, 
we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of 
the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord ; 
that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy. 
S^Jas, z^.] For God is not unrighteous to forget your 
work and labor of love, which ye have shewed toward 
his name, in that ye have ministered to the saints, and 
do minister. And we desire that every one of you do 
shew the same diligence to the full assurance of hope 
unto the end : that ye be not slothful, but followers of 
them who through faith and patience inherit the prom- 


ises. {^Heh, vi.'\ Better is the end of a thing than the 
beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than 
the proud in spirit. S^Eccl. vii.'\ 

Wherefore, seeing we also are compassed about with 
so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every 
weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and 
let us run with patience the race that is set before us, 
looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith ; 
wdio for the joy that was set before him endured the 
cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right 
hand of the throne of God. For consider him that 
endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, 
lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds. Ye have not 
yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin. \_Heb, xi'i.^ 

Now the God of patience and consolation grant you 
to be likeminded one toward another according to Christ 
Jesus : that ye may with one mind and one mouth 
glorify God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. 
\_Rom, XV.'] 


When he giveth quietness, w^ho then can make trouble? 
\_Job xxxiv,] For thus saith the Lord God, the Holy 
One of Israel ; In returning and rest shall ye be saved ; 
in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength. 
\_Isa. XXX.] And the work of righteousness shall be 
peace ; and the effect of righteousness, quietness and 
assurance for ever. And my people shall dwell in a 
peaceable habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet 


resting places. \_Isa, xxxiz.'] But let it be the hidden 
man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even 
the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the 
sight of God of great price, [z Peter zii.~\ 

Who is a \vise inan and endued with knowledsfe amonof 
you? let him shew out of a good conversation his works 
with meekness of wisdom. But if ye have bitter envy- 
ing and strife in your hearts, glory not, and lie not 
against the truth. This wisdom descendeth not from 
above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish. For where 
envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil 
work. But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, 
then peaceable, gentle, and easy to bs entreated, full of 
mercy and good fruits, ^vithout partiality, and without 
hypocrisy. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in 
peace for them that make peace. \_Jas, iu.~\ 

Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much 
fruit; so shall ye be iny disciples. As the Father hath 
loved me, so have I loved you : continue ye in my love. 
If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my 
love ; even as I have kept my Father's commandments, 
and abide in his love. These things have I spoken unto 
you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy 
might be full. This is my commandment, that ye love 
one another, as I have loved you. Greater love hath 
no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his 
friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I com- 
mand you. Henceforth I call you not servants ; for the 
serv^ant knoweth not what his lord doeth : but I have 
called you friends. \_Joh?z xv.'\ 

And we have known and believed the love that God 


hath to us. God is love ; and he that dwelleth in love 
dwelleth in God, and God in him. Herein is our love 
made perfect, that we may have boldness in the day of 
judgment : because as he is, so are we in this world. 
There is no fear in love ; but perfect love casteth out 
fear : because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not 
made perfect in love. We love him, because he first 
loved us. If a man say, I love God, and hateth his 
brother, he is a liar : for he that loveth not his brother 
whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he 
hath not seen ? And this commandment have we from 
him, that he who loveth God love his brother also. 
\_i John IV, ^ 

He that findeth his life shall lose it : and he that loseth 
his life for my sake shall find it. He that receiveth you 
receiveth me ; and he that receiveth me receiveth him 
that sent me. He that receiveth a prophet in the name 
of a prophet shall receive a prophet's reward ; and he 
that receiveth a righteous man in the name of a right- 
eous man shall receive a righteous man's reward. And 
whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little 
ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, 
verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his 
reward, [il^//. a:.] 

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of 
angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding 
brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift 
of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all 
knowledge ; and though I have all faith, so that I could 
remove mountains, and have not charity, I am noth- 
ing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the 


poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and 
have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity suf- 
fereth long, and is kind ; charity envieth not ; charity 
vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave 
itself unseemly, seeketh not her own. is not easily pro- 
voked, thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but 
rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things, believeth all 
things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity 
never faileth ; but whether there be prophecies, they 
shall fail ; whether there be tongues, they shall cease ; 
whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. And 
now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three ; but the 
greatest of these is charity, [z Cor, xii{J\ 

Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men 
should do to you, do ye even so to them : for this is the 
law and the prophets. \^Matt, vu.'\ There is that mak- 
eth himself rich, yet hath nothing : there is that maketh 
himself poor, yet hath great riches. \_Prov, xiii.'] He 
that oppresseth the poor reproacheth his Maker : but 
he that honoreth him hath mercy on the poor. He 
that despiseth his neighbor sinneth : but he that hath 
mercy on the poor, happy is he. \_Prov, xiv,~\ Is not 
this the fast that I have chosen ? to loose the bands of 
wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the 
oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke.^ Is it 
not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring 
the poor that are cast out to thy house? when thou seest 
the naked, that thou cover him ; and that thou hide not 
thyself from thine own flesh.? \_Isa. lviii.~\ 

And Jesus sat over against the treasury, and beheld 


how the people cast inoney into the treasury : and many 
that were rich cast in much. And tliere came a certain 
poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a 
farthing. And he called unto him his disciples, and 
saith unto them. Verily I say unto you, that this poor 
widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast 
into the treasury : for all they did cast in of their abun- 
dance ; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, 
even all her living. \^Mark xzi.~\ 

Then shall the King say, Come, ye blessed of my 
Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the 
foundation of the ^vorld : for I was a hungered, and ye 
gave me meat : I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink : I 
was a stranger, and ye took me in : naked, and ye 
clothed me : I was sick, and ye visited me : I Avas in 
prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous 
answer him, saying. Lord, when saw we thee a hun- 
gered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? 

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily 
I say unto you. Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of 
the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. 


Change not a friend for any good by no means ; nei- 
ther a faithful brother for the gold of Ophir. Forego 
not a wise and good w^oman : for her grace is above 
gold. \^Ecclus, viiJ\ 

And Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave thee, or to 


return from following after thee : for whither thou goest, 
I will go : and where thou lodgest, I will lodge : thy 
people shall be my people, and thy God my God : 
where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: 
the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death 
part thee and me. \_R2cth /.] 

And it came to pass, that the soul of Jonathan was 
knit ^vith the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as 
his own soul. Then Jonathan and David made a cove- 
nant, because he loved him as his own soul. And 
Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that w^as upon 
him, and gave it to David, and his garments, even to his 
sw^ord, and to his bow^, and to his girdle, [z Sam, 
xviii, ) 

And David lamented with this lamentation over Saul 
and over Jonathan his son : The beauty of Israel is slain 
upon thy high places : how are the mighty fallen ! Ye 
mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew^, neither let there 
be rain, upon you, nor fields of offerings : for there the 
shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of 
Saul, as thouo^h he had not been anointed \vith oil. From 
the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the 
bow of Jonathan turned not back, and the sword of Saul 
returned not empty. Saul and Jonathan w^ere lovely and 
pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were 
not divided ; they were swifter than eagles, they were 
stronger than lions. Ye daughters of Israel, weep over 
Saul. How are the mighty fallen in the midst of battle ! 
O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places. I am 
distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan : very pleasant 
hast thou been unto me : thy love to me was wonderful, 


passing the love of women. How are the mighty fallen, 
and the weapons of war perished ! [^ Sam, /.] 


Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall see 
God. \_Matt, v.'\ He that loveth pureness of heart, for 
the grace of his lips the king shall be his friend. \_Prov, 
xxii,'\ Pure religion and undefiled before our God and 
Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in 
their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the 
world. \_Jcts. i.~\ 

Though the Lord be high, yet hath he respect unto 
the lowly : but the proud he knoweth afar off. \^Ps, 
cxxxvlli.'] He hath shewed strength v^^ith his arm ; he 
hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their 
hearts. He hath put down the mighty from their seats, 
and exalted them of low degree. \_Lzcke i.'] The fear of 
the Lord is the instruction of wisdom ; and before honor 
is humility. [_Prov. xv,~\ Bv humility and the fear of 
the Lord are riches and honor and life. \_Prov, xxn,~\ 

And lie spake this parable unto certain which trusted 
in themselves that they w^ere righteous, and despised 
others : Two men went up into the temple to pray ; the 
one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee 
stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee 
that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, 
adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the 
week, I give tithes of all that I possess. And the pub- 
lican, standing afar off, w^ould not lift up so much as his 


eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God 
be merciful to me a sinner. I tell you, this man went 
down to his house justified rather than the other : for 
every one that exalte th himself shall be abased ; and he 
that humbleth himself shall be exalted. \Luke xvzu,'] 

Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be 
seen of them : otherwise ye havx no reward of your 
Father which is in heaven. Therefore when thou doest 
thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the 
hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that 
they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you. 
They have their reward. But ^vhen thou doest alms, let 
not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth. 
\_j\Iatt. vi.'] And when thou pray est, thou shalt not be 
as the hypocrites are : for they love to pray standing in 
the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that 
they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you. They 
have their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter 
into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray 
to thy Father which is in secret ; and thy Father which 
seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. But when ye 
pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do : for 
they think that they shall be heard for their much speak- 
ing. Be not ye therefore like unto them : for your 
Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye 
ask him. [Ji^//. vi.^ But the hour cometh, and now 
is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father 
in spirit and in truth : for the Father seeketh such to 
worship him. God is a Spirit, and they that worship 
him must worship him in spirit and hi truth. S^John ivJ\ 



And seeing the multitudes, Jesus went up into a moun- 
tain : and when he was set, his disciples came unto him : 
and he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying, 
Blessed are the poor in spirit : for theirs is the kingdom 
of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall 
be comforted. Blessed are the meek : for they shall 
inherit the earth. Blessed are they w^hich do hunger 
and thirst after righteousness : for they shall be filled. 
Blessed are the merciful : for they shall obtain mercy. 
Blessed are the pure in heart ; for they shall see God. 
Blessed are the peacemakers : for they shall be called the 
children of God. Blessed are they which are perse- 
cuted for righteousness' sake : for theirs is the kingdom 
of heaven. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, 
and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil 
against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be 
exceeding glad : for great is your reward in heaven : for 
so persecuted they the prophets which were before you. 
{^Matt. v,~\ 

Now therefore hearken unto me, O ye children : for 
blessed are they that keep my ways. Hear instruction, 
and be wise, and refuse it not. Blessed is the man that 
heareth me, watching daily at my gates, w^aiting at the 
posts of my doors. For w^hoso findeth me findeth life, 
and shall obtain favor of the Lord. But he that sinneth 
against me wrongeth his own soul : all they that hate me 
love death. \_Prov. viii,~\ Happy is the man that find- 
eth wisdom, and tlie man that getteth understanding : for 
the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of 


silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more 
precious than rubies : and all the things thou canst desire 
are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is 
in her right hand ; and in her left hand riches and honor. 
Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths 
are peace. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold 
upon her : and happy is every one that retaineth her. 

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart ; and lean 
not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways 
acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. \_Prov, 
tzi,~\ Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and 
whose hope the Lord is. For he shall be as a tree 
planted by the w^aters, and that spreadeth out her roots 
by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but 
her leaf shall be green ; and shall not be careful in the 
year of drought, neither shall cease from ^^ielding fruit. 
\_Jer. xvii.~\ Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy 
thoughts shall be established. (^Prov, xvL) 

Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where 
moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break 
through and steal : but lay up for yourselves treasures 
in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, 
and w^iere thieves do not break through nor steal : 
for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. 
\_Matt. VI.'] 

Love not the world, neither the things that are in the 
world. If any man love the world, the love of the 
Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the 
lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of 


life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And 
the world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he that 
doeth the will of God abideth for ever, [z John tz.~\ 
Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteous- 
ness ; and all these things shall be added unto you. 
Take therefore no thought for the morrow : for the mor- 
row shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient 
unto the day is the evil thereof. \_J\fatt. vl.~\ These 
things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might 
have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation : 
but be of good cheer ; I have overcome the world. 
\_Jokn xvi.~\ 

The hope of the ungodly is like dust that is blown 
away with the wind; like a thin froth that is driven 
away with the storm ; like as the smoke which is dis- 
persed here and there \vith a tempest, and passeth away 
as the remembrance of a guest that tarrieth but a day. 
But the righteous live for evermore ; their reward also 
is with the Lord, and the care of them is with the Most 
High. Therefore shall they receive a glorious kingdom, 
and a beautiful crown from the Lord's hand ; for with 
his right hand shall he cover them, and with his arm 
shall he protect them. [ Wisdom v,~\ 


At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, say- 
ing. Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven? 
And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in 
the midst of them, and said, Verily I say unto you, 
except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye 


shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever 
therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the 
same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoso 
shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth 
me. But whoso shall cause one of these little ones which 
believe in me to stumble, it were better for him that a 
millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were 
drowned in the depth of the sea. Take heed that ye 
despise not one of these little ones ; for I say unto you, 
that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of 
my Father which is in heaven. Even so it is not the 
will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these 
little ones should perish. [J7a//. xviu.~\ They shall be 
mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make 
up my jewels ; and I w^ill spare them, as a man spareth 
his own son that serveth him. \_jMaL Hi.'] 

And they brought young children to him, that he 
should touch them ; and his disciples rebuked those that 
brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much 
displeased, and said unto them. Suffer the little children 
to come unto me, and forbid them not ; for of such is 
the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you. Whosoever 
shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he 
shall not enter therein. And he took them up in his 
arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them. 

A voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation, and bitter 
weeping ; Rachel weeping for her children refused to be 
comforted for her children, because they were not. Thus 
saith the Lord ; Refrain thy voice from weeping, and 


thine eyes from tears : for thy work shall be rewarded, 
saitli the Lord. \_Jer, xxxiJ\ 

When David saw that his servants whispered, David 
perceived that the child was dead : therefore David said 
unto his servants. Is the child dead? And they said. He 
is dead. Then David arose from the earth, and washed, 
and anointed himself, and changed his apparel, and came 
into the house of the Lord, and worshipped : then he 
came to his own house ; and when he required, they set 
bread before him, and he did eat. Then said his servants 
unto him, What thing is this that thou hast done? thou 
didst fast and weep for the child, while it was alive ; 
but when the child was dead, thou didst arise and eat 
bread. And he said. While the child was yet alive, I 
fasted and wept : for I said. Who can tell whether God 
will be gracious to me, that the child may live? But 
now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? can I bring him 
back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return 
to me. \2 Sam. xii,~\ 

And it came to pass, when the man of God saw the 
woman afar off, that he said to his servant : Run now, I 
pray thee, to meet her, and say unto her. Is it well with 
thee ? is it well with thy husband ? is it well with the 
child? And she answered. It is well. [2 Kings zv.^ 

And David was much moved, and went up to the 
chamber over the gate, and wept : and as he went, thus 
he said, O my son Absalom ! my son, my son Absalom ! 
would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my 
son! [2 Sa77z. xvi{i.~\ And the victory that day was 
turned into mourning unto all the people : for the people 


heard say that day how the king was grieved for his son. 
And the people gat them by stealth that day into the 
city, as people being ashamed steal away when they flee 
in battle. But the king covered his face, and the king 
cried with a loud voice, O my son Absalom ! O Absa- 
lom, my son, my son ! [2 Sam. xi'x,^ 


Though the righteous be prevented with death, yet 
shall he be in rest. For honorable age is not that 
which standeth in length of time, nor that is meas- 
ured by number of years. But wisdom is the gray hair 
unto men, and an unspotted life is old age. He pleased 
God, and was beloved of him : so that living among sin- 
ners he was translated. He, being made perfect in a 
short time, fulfilled a long time : for his soul pleased the 
Lord : therefore hasted he to take him away from among 
the wicked. This the people saw, and understood it 
not, neither laid they up this in their minds, that his 
grace and mercy is with his saints, and that he hath 
respect unto his chosen. Thus the righteous that is dead 
shall condemn the ungodly which are living : and youth 
that is soon perfected the many years and old age of the 
unrighteous. [ Wisdo7n iv,'] 

Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them 
alive ; and let thy widows trust in me. \_Jer. xlix.'\ 
Come, ye children, hearken unto me : I w^ill teach you 
the fear of the Lord. What man is he that desireth life, 
and loveth many days, that he may see good? Keep thy 


tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile. 
Depart from evil, and do good ; seek peace, and pui'sue 
it. [^Ps, xxxiv.~\ Honor thy father with thy whole 
heart, and forget not the sorrows of thy mother. Re- 
member that thou wast begotten of them ; and how 
canst thou recompense them the things that they have 
done for thee? \_Scclus. vit.~\ My son, keep thy father's 
commandment, and forsake not the law of thy mother : 
bind them continually upon thine heart, and tie them 
about thy neck. When thou goest, it shall lead thee ; 
when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee ; and when thou 
awakest, it shall talk with thee. For the commandment 
is a lamp ; and the law is light ; and reproofs of instruc- 
tion are the w^ay of life. \_Prov, vi.'] 

Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far 
above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust 
in her. She will do him good and not evil all the days 
of her life. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor ; 
yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. Her 
husband is known in the gates, w^hen he sitteth among the 
elders of the land. Strength and honor are her clothing ; 
and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her 
mouth wuth wisdom ; and in her tongue is the law of 
kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her house- 
hold, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children 
arise up, and call her blessed ; her husband also, and he 
praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, 
but thou excellest them all. Favor is deceitful, anc 
beauty is vain : but a woman that feareth the Lord, she 
shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands ; 
and let her own works praise her in the gates. \_Prov. 


And being in Bethany, in the house of Simon the 
leper, as he sat at meat, there came a woman having an 
alabaster box of ointment of spikenard very precious ; 
and she brake the box, and poured it on his head. And 
there w^ere some that had indignation within themselves, 
and said, Why was this waste of the ointment made.? 
For it might have been sold for more than three hundred 
pence, and have been given to the poor. And they 
murmured against her. And Jesus said. Let her alone ; 
why trouble ye her ? she hath wrought a good work on 
me. For ye have the poor with you always, and when- 
soever ye will ye may do them good : but me ye have 
not always. She hath done what she could. Verily I 
say unto you. Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached 
throughout the w^iole world, this also that she hath done 
shall be spoken of for a memorial of her. \_]\fark xiv.~\ 

Wherefore now, manfully changing this life, I will 
shew myself such an one as mine age requireth, and 
leave a notable example to such as be young to die will- 
ingly and courageously for the honorable and holy laws. 
It is manifest unto the Lord, that hath the holy knowl- 
edge, that whereas I might have been delivered from 
death, I now endure sore pains in body, but in soul 
am w^ell content to suffer these things, because I fear 
him. And thus this man died, leaving his death for an 
example of a noble courage, and a memorial of virtue, 
not only unto young men, but unto all his nation. 
\_2 Mac, vz.~\ 



We spend our years as a tale that is told. The days 
of our years are threescore years and ten ; and if by 
reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their 
strength labor and sorrow ; for it is soon cut off, and we 
fly away. \_I^s, xc.^ My days are like a shadow that 
declineth ; and I am withered like grass. But thou, O 
Lord, shalt endure for ever : and thy remembrance unto 
all generations. \^Ps. ci'i'.^ 

If thou hast gathered nothing in thy youth, how canst 
thou find anything in thine age ? O how" comely a thing- 
is judgment for gray hairs, and for ancient men to know 
counsel I O how comely is the wisdom of old men, and 
understanding and counsel to men of honor ! Much 
experience is the crown of old men, and the fear of God 
is their glory. \_Ecchcs. xxv.^ 

The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in 
the yv^ay of righteousness. He that is slo\v to anger is 
better than the mighty ; and he that ruleth his spirit than 
he that taketh a city. The lot is cast into the lap ; but 
the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord. \^Prov, xvi.^ 
Then Abraham gave up the ghost, and died in a good 
old age, an old man, and full of years ; and was gathered 
to his people. [Ge7z, xxv.^ And he died in a good old 
age, full of days, riches, and honor, [z C/iro. xxix."] 

O God thou hast taught me from my youth : and hith- 
erto have I declared thy wondrous works. Now also 
when I am old and grayheaded, O God, forsake me not. 
Cast me not off in the time of old age ; forsake me not 
w^hen my strength faileth. [Ps. lxxz,~\ 


If thou prepare thine heart, and stretch out thine hands 
toward him ; if iniquity be in thine hand, put it far 
away, and let not wickedness dwell in thy tabernacles. 
For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot ; yea, 
thou shalt be steadfast, and shalt not fear : because thou 
shalt forget thy misery, and remember it as waters that 
pass away : and thine age shall be clearer than the 
noonday ; thou shalt shine forth, and shalt be as the 
morning. And thou shalt be secure, because there is 
hope ; yea, thou shalt dig about thee, and thou shalt take 
thy rest in safety. S^Job xi.'\ And thou shalt go to thy 
fathers in peace ; thou shalt be buried in a good old 
age. [ Ge7i xvJ\ Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full 
age, like as a shock of corn cometh in his season, 
Uob. v.-\ 

The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree : he shall 
grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Those that be planted 
in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts 
of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age ; 
to shew that the Lord is upright : he is my rock, and 
there is no unrighteousness in him. \^Ps, xciiJ\ Hearken 
unto me, O house of Jacob, and all the remnant of the 
house of Israel. Even to your old age I am he : and 
even to hoar hairs w^ill I carry you ; I have made,^ 
and I will bear ; even I will carry, and w411 deliver you. 
\^Isa, xlvi.'\ Return unto thy rest, O my soul ; for the 
Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee. For thou hast 
delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and 
my feet from falling. \_Ps, cxvi.'\ 

Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth. 


while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, 
when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them ; while 
the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars, be not 
darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain : in the day 
when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the 
strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease 
because they are few, and those that look out of the 
window^s be darkened, and the doors shall be shut in 
the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and 
one shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the 
daughters of music shall be brought low^ ; also when 
they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall 
be in the way, and the almond tree shall flourish, and 
the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail : 
because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners 
go about the streets. Or ever the silver cord be loosed, 
or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken 
at the fountain, or the ^vheel broken at the cistern. 
Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was : and 
the spirit shall return unto God who gave it. \^EccLxii.'\ 


Thou, O God, art gracious and true, long-suffering, 
and in mercy ordering all things. For if we sin, we are 
thine, knowing thy power: but we will not sin, know- 
ing that we are counted thine. For to know thee is 
perfect righteousness : yea, to know^ thy power is the 
root of immortality. [ Wzsdofn xv.~\ 

For if ye live after the flesh, ye shall die : but if ye 
through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye 


shall live. For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, 
they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the 
spirit of bondage again to fear ; but ye have received the 
spirit of adoption, whereby w^e cry, Abba, Father. The 
Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are 
the children of God : and if children, then heirs ; heirs 
of God, and joint heirs with Christ ; if so be that 
we suffer w^ith him, that we may be also glorified 
together. For I reckon that the sufferings of this present 
time are not worthy to be compared with the glory 
which shall be revealed in us. Because the creation 
itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of cor- 
ruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. 
For we know that the v^hole creation groaneth and 
travaileth in pain together until now. And not only 
they, but ourselves also, which have the first-fruits of the 
Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting 
for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body. For 
we are saved by hope : but hope that is seen is not hope : 
for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? But 
if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience 
wait for it. Likewise the spirit also helpeth our infirm- 
ities : for we know not what we should pray for as we 
ought. And we know that all things work together 
for good to them that love God, to them who are called 
according to his purpose. What shall we then say to 
these things.^ If God be for us, who can be against us? 
Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors 
through him that lorved us. For I am persuaded that 
neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor 
powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor 
height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to 


separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ 
Jesus our Lord. \_JRo?n. vzii.'] 

If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which 
are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. 
Set your affection on things above, not on things on the 
earth. For ye are dead, and your Hfe is hid with Christ 
in God. \_Col, iiiJ\ Beloved, now are we the sons of 
God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be : but 
we know that when it shall be manifested, we shall be 
like him ; for we shall see him as he is. And every 
man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even 
as he is pure. \_i John in,'] 

Let not your heart be troubled : ye believe in God, 
believe also in me. In my Father's house are many 
mansions : if it were not so, I would have told you. I 
go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare 
a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto 
myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. And 
whither I go ye know, and the way ye know. Thomas 
saith unto him, Lord, we know not whither thou goest ; 
and how can we know the way? Jesus saith unto him, I 
am the way, the truth, and the life : no man cometh unto 
the Father but by me. Peace I leave with you, my peace 
I give unto you : not as the world giveth, give I unto 
you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be 
afraid. \_Joh7t xz'v.] 

If a man die, shall he live again? all the days of my 
appointed time will I wait, till my change come. Thou 
shalt call, and I will answer thee. ^Job. xtv,^ 


But some man will say, How are the dead raised up ! 
and with what body do they come? Thou fool, that 
which thou sow^est is not quickened, except it die : and 
that which thou sow^est, thou sowest not that body that 
shall be, but bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or of 
some other grain : but God giveth it a body as it hath 
pleased him, and to every seed his ow^n body. All flesh 
is not the same flesh : but there is one kind of flesh of 
inen, another flesh of beasts, another of fishes, and 
another of birds. There are also celestial bodies, and 
bodies terrestrial : but the glory of the celestial is one, 
and the glory of the terrestrial is another. There is one 
glory of the sun, and another glory of the inoon, and 
another glory of the stars ; for one star differeth from 
another star in glory. So also is the resurrection of the 
dead. It is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorrup- 
tion : it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory : it is 
sown in weakness, it is raised in power : it is sow^n a 
natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. There is a 
natural body, and there is a spiritual body. How^- 
belt that was not first which is spiritual, but that w^hich 
is natural : and afterward that which is spiritual. The 
first man is of the earth, earthy : the second man is 
of heaven. As is the earthy, such are they also that 
are earthy : and as is the heavenly, such are they also 
that are heavenly. And as w^e have borne the image 
of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the 
heavenly. Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and 
blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God ; neither doth 
corruption inherit incorruption. For this corruptible 
must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put 
on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have 


put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on 
immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying 
that is written, Death is swallowed up m victory. O 
death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy 
victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of 
sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us 
the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, 
my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always 
abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye 
know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord. 
[/ Cor. XV.) 

For we know that, if our earthly house of this taber- 
nacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house 
not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in 
this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with 
our house which is from heaven : if so be that being 
clothed we shall not be found naked. For we that are 
in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened : not for that 
we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality 
might be swallowed up of life. [2 Co?-. z\'] 

But as touching the resurrection of the dead, have ye 
not read that which was spoken unto you by God, saying, 
I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the 
God of Jacob ? God is not the God of the dead, but of 
the living. [^Jlaff. xxii.~\ 

I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not ; I 
will lead them in paths that thev have not known : I will 
make darkness light before them, and crooked things 
straight. These things ^vill I do unto them, and not 
forsake them. \^Isa. xlzi.'] And it shall be said in that 


day, Lo, this is our God ; we have waited for him, and 
he will save us. He will swallow up death in victory ; 
and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all 
faces ; and the rebuke of his people shall he take away 
from off all the earth: for the Lord hath spoken it. 
[^/sa, XXV.] 

Now he that hath wrought us for the selfsame thing is 
God, v/ho also hath given unto us the earnest of the 
Spirit. Therefore we are always confident, knowing 
• that, whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent 
from the Lord: (for we walk by faith, not by sight:) 
we are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent 
from the body, and to be present with the Lord. Where- 
fore we labor, that, whether present or absent, we may 
be accepted of him. [2 Co?-, v.] 

But as it is written, E}^ hath not seen, nor ear heard, 
neither have entered into the heart of man, the things 
which God hath prepared for thein that love him. But 
God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit : for the 
Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God. 
[z Co7\ //.] For which cause we faint not ; but though 
our out^vard man perish, yet the inward man is renewed 
day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a 
moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal 
weight of glory ; \vhile we look not at the things which 
are seen, but at the things which are not seen : for the 
things which are seen are temporal ; but the things 
which are not seen are eternal. [^ Cor. tv.~\ 

And I saw a new heaven and a new earth : for the 


first heaven and the first earth were passed away ; and 
there was no more sea. And I John saw the holy city, 
new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven. 
And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, 
the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell 
with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself 
shall be with them, and be their God. And God shall 
wipe away all tears from their eyes ; and there shall be 
no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall 
there be any more pain : for the former things are passed 
aw^ay. And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I 
make all things new. I am Alpha and Omega, the 
beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is 
athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. He 
that overcometh shall inherit all things ; and I will be 
his God, and he shall be my son. \_Rev. xxl.~\ And 
I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me. Write, 
Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from 
henceforth : yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from 
their labors ; and their w^orks do follow them. \_JRev, xiv.~\ 
They shall not hunger nor thirst ; neither shall the heat 
nor sun smite them : for he that hath mercy on them 
shall lead them, even by the springs of w^ater shall he 
guide them. \_Isa, xlzx,~\ 

And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear 
as crystal. On either side of the river, was there the tree 
of life, and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of 
the nations. And there shall be no night there ; and 
they need no candle, neither light of the sun ; for the 
Lord God giveth them light : and they shall reign 
for ever and ever. [_Rez\ xxiz.'] And the city hath no 


need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it ; for 
the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the 
light thereof. And the nations shall walk in the light 
of it : and the kings of the earth do bring their glory 
and honor into it. And the gates of it shall not be 
shut at all by day : for there shall be no night there. 
\_Jiev. xxi,~\ 

Strengthen ye the weak hands, and confirm the feeble 
knees. Say to them that are of a fearful heart, Be 
strong, fear not : behold, your God will come with ven- 
geance, even God with a recompense ; he will come and 
save you. Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, 
and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped. Then shall 
the lame man leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb 
sing : for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and 
streams in the desert. And the parched ground shall 
become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water. 
And a highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall 
be called The way of holiness ; the unclean shall not 
pass over it ; but it shall be for those : the wayfaring 
men, though fools, shall not err therein. And the ran- 
somed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with 
songs and everlasting joy upon their heads : they shall 
obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall 
flee away. \_Isa. xxxv,'] 

After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which 
no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and 
people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before 
the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their 
hands ; and cried with a loud voice, saying. Salvation to 


our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the 
Lamb. And all the angels stood round about the throne, 
and worshipped God, saying, Amen : Blessing, and glory, 
and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honor, and power, 
and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. 
Who are these which are arrayed in white robes, and 
whence came they? These are they which came out of 
great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and 
made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore 
are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and 
night in his temple : and he that sitteth on the throne 
shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, 
neither thirst any more ; neither shall the sun light on 
them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the 
midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them 
unto living fountains of waters : and God shall wipe 
away all tears from their eyes. [_J^ev. vu.'\ 

Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace, 
that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the 
Holy Spirit. \_Rom. xv,'\ 


The soul lives after the body dies. The soul passes 
through the gate ; he makes a way in the darkness to his 
Father ; he has pierced the heart of evil to do the things 
of his Father. 

Then shall the Judge of the dead answer : Let this 
soul pass on ; he is without sin ; he lives upon truth. 
He has made his delight in doing what is good to men, 
and what is pleasing to God. He has given food to the 
hungry ; drink to the thirsty and clothes to the naked. 
His lips are pure and his hands are pure. His heart 
weighs right in the balance. He fought on earth the 
battle of the good, even as his Father, the Lord of the 
invisible world had commanded him. O God, the 
protector of him who has brought his cry unto Thee, 
make it well with him in the world of spirits ! He loved 
his father, he honored his mother ; he loved his brethren. 
He never preferred the great man to him of low condition. 
He was a wise man, his soul loved God. He was a 
brother to the great and a father to the humble ; and he 
never was a mischief-maker. Such as these shall find 
gTace in tiie eyes of the great God. They shall dwell 
in the abodes of glory, where the heavenly life is led. 
The bodies which they have abandoned will repose 
forever in their tombs, while they will enjoy the presence 
of the great God. — Egyptian {Book of the Dead). 


Heaven is a palace with many doors, and each one 
may enter in his own way. There is another, invisible, 
eternal existence, superior to the visible one, which does 
not perish when all things perish. Those who attain to 
this never return. The God of the dead waits enthroned 
in immortal light to welcome the good into his kingdom 
of joy ; to the homes he has prepared for them, where 
the One Being dwells beyond the stars. — Hindu, 

There are treasures laid up in the heart — treasures of 
charity, piety, temperance, and soberness. These treas- 
ures a man takes with him beyond death, when he leaves 
this world. Man never dies. The soul inhabits the 
body for a time and leaves it again. The soul is myself; 
the body is only my dwelling-place. The pearls and 
gems which a man has collected, even from his youth, 
cannot go with him to another world. Friends and 
relations cannot go with him a step further than his place 
of burial. But a man's actions, good or bad, go with 
him to the future world. As kindred, friends and dear 
ones salute him who hath travelled far and returned 
home safe, so w^ill good deeds welcome him who goes 
from this world and enters another. — Buddhist, 

What is death? To be born again an angel of 
Eternity. — Persian {Biczzirdi) . 

The Supreme Soul, whose work is the universe, 
always dwelling in the hearts of all being, is revealed 
by the heart. Those who know him become immortal. 
— Hi72du. 

The sun rises out of life and sets into life ; this is the 
sacred law ; it sways to-day, and will sway to-morrow. 


From the unreal, lead me to the real ; from darkness 
to light ; from death to immortality ! This uttered over- 
comes the world. — Hindu {^Brihad Upaitlshad^ . 

Know that these finite bodies have belonged to an 
eternal, inexhaustible, indestructible spirit. He who 
believes that this spirit can kill, and he who believes it 
can be killed, both are wn*ong. Unborn, changeless, 
eternal, it is not slain when the body is slain. * * * * 
Weapons cannot cleave, nor fire burn it. It is constant, 
immovable ; yet it can pass through all things. * * ^ * 
Grieve not then for any creatures, and abandon not thy 
duty. For a noble man, that infamy w'^ere worse than 
death. * * * * It is good to die doing thy own work. 
— Hindu (^Bhagavadgita) , 

Virtue is a service man owes himself; and though 
there were no heaven, nor any God to rule the world, 
it were not less the binding law of life. It is a man's 
privilege to know the right and follow it. 

Betray and persecute me, brother men ! * * * * Earth, 
hell, heaven, combine your might to crush, — I will still 
hold fast by this inheritance ! My strength is nothing — 
time can shake and cripple it; my youth is transient — 
already grief has w^ithered up my days ; my heart — alas ! 
it seems well nigh broken now ! Anguish may crush it 
utterly, and life may fail ; but even so my soul, that has 
not tripped, shall triumph, and dying, give the lie to 
soulless Destiny, that dares to boast itself man's master. 
— Hindu (yRdmdya7id) . 

Man must not be carried away by grief, but hasten to 


a better mind. Thou hast shed tears: it is enough. 
* * * * We have given what we ought to grief; now 
let us do what is becoming. — Hindu {^Rdnidyaita) . 

Why lookest thou so dull upon thy friends, thou to 
w^hom thy friends wxre so dear? Thy face seems to 
smile on us in, the bosom of death, as if thou wert alive. 
We see thy glory still, like sunset on a mountain's head. 
— Hindu, 

He Vv'ho in the inorning has seen the right way, may 
in the evening die without regret. — Confucius, 

It is right, my friends, that we should consider this : 
that if the soul is immortal, it requires our care not only 
for the present time, which we call life, but for all time. 
He, then, is truly wise, Avho considers inost about his 
soul ; who having adorned his soul, not with a foreign, 
but with its own proper ornament, — temperance, justice, 
fortitude, freedom, and truth, — thus waits for his passage 
to the world of the departed, as one who is ready to go 
i whenever destiny shall summon him. 

If death be the journey to another place, and there all 
the dead are, what good can be greater than this? Be 
of good cheer about death, and know this of a truth, — 
that no evil can happen to a good man, either in life or 
after death. — Plato. 

The body is a prison, from which the soul must be 
released before it can arrive at the knowledge of things 
real and immutable. 

The soul of each of us is an immortal spirit, and goes 
to other immortals to give an account of its actions. 

When thou shalt have laid aside thy body, thou shalt 


rise, freed from mortality, and become an inhabitant of 
the kindly skies. 

My body must descend to the place ordained, but my 
soul will not descend : being a thing immortal, it will 
ascend on high, where it wall enter a heavenly abode. 
Death does not differ at all from life. 

Every soul is immortal ; for w4iatever is continually 
moved is immortal. Every body which is moved from 
without is soulless, but that which is moved from within, 
that is, of itself, possesses a soul, since this is the very 
nature of soul. But if this be the case, — that there is 
nothing else w^hich moves itself except soul, — soul must 
necessarily be both uricreate and immortal. — Plato, 

All that God works is effortless and calm : 
Seated on loftiest throne, 
Thence, though we know not how, 
He works his perfect will. 

— y^schylics ( The Suppliants), 

It is shame 
For any man to wish for length of life, 
Who, wrapt in troubles, knows no change for good. 
For what delight brings day still following day, 
Or bringing on, or putting off our death ? 
I would not rate that man as worth regard 
Whose fervor glows on vain and empty hopes : 
But either noble life or noble death 
Becomes the gently born. — Sophocles (Ajax). 

An immortal man established in righteousness is a 
noble hymn of God. — Greek, 

Who knows whether to live is not death, and to die, 
life ? — Euripides, 


I believe Nature, knowing the confusion and shortness 
of our life, hath industriously concealed the end of it 
from us, this making for our advantage ; for if we were 
sensible of it beforehand, some would pine away with 
untimely sorrow, and would die before their death came. 

Every one should meditate seriously with himself, that 
it is not the longest life which is the best, but that which 
is the most virtuous. 

But such exclamations as this, " The young man ought 
not to be taken off so abruptly in the vigor of his years," 
are very frivolous, and proceed from a great weakness of 
mind ; for who is it that can say what a thing ought to be ? 

And who knows but that the Deity, w^ith a fatherly 
providence and out of tenderness to mankind, foreseeing 
what would happen, hath taken some purposely out of 
this life by an untimely death? So we should think that 
nothing has befallen them wdiich they should have 
sought to shun, — '' For naught that cometh by necessity 
is hard." — Plutarch. 

What then do you wish to be doing when you are found 
by death ? I, for my part, would wish to be found doing 
something which belongs to a man, beneficent, suitable 
to the general interest, noble. But if I cannot be foimd 
doing things so great, I would be found doing at least 
that which I cannot be hindered from doing, that which 
is permitted me to do : correcting myself, laboring at tran- 
quillity of mind, rendering to the relations of life their due. 

If death surprises me when I am busy about these 
things, it is enough for me if I can stretch out my hands 
to God and say : The means wdiich I have received 
from thee for seeing thy administration of the world. 


and following It, I have not neglected ; I have not 
dishonored thee by my acts. * * * * That thou hast 
given me life, I thank thee for what thou hast given : 
so long- as I have used the things w^hich are thine I am 
content ; take them back and place them wherever thou 
mayest choose ; for thine were all things, thou gavest 
them to me. 

I think that what God chooses is better than what I 
choose ; I will attach myself as minister and follower 
to him. — Epictetus. 

When I consider the faculties with which the human 
soul Is endowed, * * * * I feel a conscious conviction 
that this active, comprehensive principle cannot possibly 
be of a mortal nature. And as this unceasing activity 
of the soul derives its energy from its own intrinsic and 
essential powers, without receiving It from any foreign 
or external impulse, it necessarily follows that its activity 
must continue forever. 

I consider this world as a place which Nature never 
Intended for my permanent abode ; and I look on my 
departure from it, not as being driven from my habita- 
tion, but simply as leaving an inn. — Cicero, 

That which we call death Is but a pause or suspension, 
and In truth a progress to life : only our thoughts look 
downward upon the body, and not forward upon things 
to come. " It is the care of a wise and good man to look 
to his manners and actions ; and rather how well he 
lives than how long. To die sooner or later is not the 
business, but to die well or ill ; for death brings us 
to immortality. 


Why was such a one taken away in the prime of his 
years? Life is to be measured by action, not by time. 
A man may die old at thirty, and young at fourscore. 
Nay, the one hves after death ; and the other perished 
before he died. The fear of death is a continual slavery, 
as the contempt of it is certain liberty. — Sejteca, 

Day and night show unto us the resurrection. The 
night falleth asleep and the day ariseth ; the day depart- 
eth and night cometh on. Let us mark how and in w^hat 
manner the sowing taketh place. The sower casteth 
into the earth each of the seeds and these decay : then 
out of their decay the might of the Master's providence 
raiseth them up and they bear fruit. — Cle7nent of Rome, 

Vines hold not their clusters all the year ; now are 
they fruitful, and now they shed their leaves like tears. 
Like the sun, the pure are clouded. On them the 
envious crowd may hurl its hate ; but it is as sparks 
falling on the clear stream — the sparks perish, the w^ater 
goes shining on. Fear not the dark, friend ; perchance 
the Water of Life may be found in the dark abyss of 
sorrow. — Persian i^Saadi) . 

We saw him in the garden, the pleasant garden, 

With his companions and his children, the children he loved. 

His children and his servants blessed him. 

His home was the shelter of happiness. 

Peace be upon him. 
We saw him giving food to the hungry, 
And clothing to the naked. 
We saw him give help and succor to the aged, 
And good counsel to the young. 


He suffered not the stranger to sleep in the streets : 
He opened his door to the wayfarer. 

Peace be upon him. — Syrian Dh^ge. 

Yes, the very least and the very greatest sorrov^^s that 
God ever suffers to befall thee, proceed from the depths 
of his unspeakable love ; and such great love w^ere better 
for thee than the highest and best gifts besides that he 
has given thee, or ever could give thee, if thou could'st 
but see it in this light. 

God is ever ready, but v^e are very unready ; God 
is nigh to us, but w^e are far from him ; God is w^ithin, 
v^e are w^ithout ; God is at home, we are strangers. 
The prophet says: "God leadeth the righteous by a 
narrow path into a broad highway, till they come 
into a wide and open place " : that is, unto the true 
freedom of that spirit w^hich hath become one spirit with 
God. God help us all to follow him, that he may 
bring us unto himself! — John Tauler, 

Lord, I know not what I ought to ask of thee ; thou 
lovest me better than I can love myself. O my Father, 
give to thy child that w^hich he knows not how to ask. 
I dare not pray either for crosses or consolations ; I 
present myself before thee, I open my heart to thee. 
Behold those w^ants that I know not myself. See and do 
according to thy tender mercy. 

I adore thy will without knowing it. I am silent 
before thee ; I yield myself up, I would sacrifice myself 
to thy will, I could have no other desire than to do it. 
Teach ine to pray ; pray thyself in me. 

O my God ! what is death or life to me } Life is 
nothing ; it is even a snare if it be too dear to me. 


Death can only destroy this house of clay ; it delivers the 
soul from the contamination of the body, and from its own 
pride. It frees it from the influence of the tempter, and 
introduces it forever into the kingdom of truth. 

I ask not, then, O my Father, for health or for life. 
I make an offering to thee of all my days. Thou hast 
counted them. I w^ould know nothing more. All I ask 
is to die rather than live as I have lived, and if it be thy 
will that I depart, let me die in patience and in love. 
Almighty God, who boldest the keys of the tomb in thy 
hand, to open and close it at thy will, give me not life 
if I love it too well. Living or dying, I would be 
thine. — Fenelon, 

All death in nature is birth, and In death appears 
visibly the advancement of life. There is no killing 
principle in nature, for nature throughout is life ; it 
is not death which kills, but the higher life, which, 
concealed behind the other, begins to develop itself. 
Death and birth are but the struggle of life with itself to 
attain a higher form. — J. G. JFlchte, 

No set words or thoughts will enable us to meet death 
trustfully. Such trust is God's gift, and the more we 
detach ourselves from all save Himself, the more '* freely 
He will give us" this, as all other blessings. Once 
attain to losing self in God, and death will indeed have 
no sting. — Jean Nicolas Grott, 

Wherever I may be, through whatever worlds I may 
be led, I know that I shall forever remain in the hands 
of the Father who brought me hither, and calls me 
further on. — Herder. 


Then woke 
Stirrings of deep Divinity within, 
And, like the flickerings of a smouldering flame, 
Yearnings of a hereafter. Thou it was, 
When the world's din and passion's voice was still, 
Calling thy wanderer home. — Williaiiis. 

What shall I do to gain eternal life } 

Discharge aright 
The simple dues with which each day is rife, 

Yea, with thy might. 
Ere perfect scheme of action thou devise, 

Thy life is fled. 
But he who ever acts as conscience cries. 

Shall live though dead. — Sc/iille7\ 

He has gone before us. The spirit within him that 
used to talk to us, to look at us with kind eyes, has left 
the body, and is no longer visible. Blessings on his 
memory ! INIay he also, if he behold us, bless us ! for 
we need his blessing. Greatly we need it, wuth these 
hopeless yearnings for his presence ; these fears that we 
did not do all we might have done for him ; this almost 
shame at feeling that we are warm and living, w^hile he 
is cold and motionless ; at home and housed, wdiile he 
is away. 

But these are our thoughts, not his. His body is not 
his spirit ; and perhaps his spirit looks upon us this 
moment, and sees how we loved him, and hoAV we 
suffer. He knows the struggles that we have still to 
endure ; he looks on his mortal friends with immortal 
kindness ; on these dear relations, on these beloved chil- 
dren. Let us be calm in the hope of rejoining him ; let 
us become patient in it; let us rejoice in it. Let us 
cherish the thoughts he would desire ; let us take up 


again the duties he would wish us, now and ever, to 

O friends that remain ! ye will keep as much of me as 
ye are able ; kind thoughts of me ; recollections of our 
mutual joys and sufferings ; recollection of the pardon 
we gave to each other. You w ill love all whom I have 
loved, and me in them. 

Surely love, and hope, and joy are not confined to 
us. vSurely there are myriads of beings inhabiting the 
invisible world. Some may have realized their heaven, 
and are resting. Some may be carrying it further. 
Some may be lielping us, just as we help the bee, or the 
wounded bird ; spirits of dear friends, who still pity our 
tears, rejoice in our smiles, and whisper into our hearts 
a belief that they are present. 

The heart bids us believe it possible ; and oh ! w^hat- 
ever good thing the heart bids us believe, let us do our 
best to believe it ; for God has put it there, and its good- 
ness is His w^arrant for its being cherished. — Leigh 

The immortality of the soul is a truth which is not 
bright except to the pure in heart. 

Through making us hope for immortality, God has 
made us a promise of it. If faith is the evidence of things 
not seen, hope is the certainty of them. Hope prophesies 
to us. Hope makes us free of the universe. I am a 
pilgrim, and life is what I have to travel over ; and oh ! 
I have many dangers and inany w^ants ; but hope is mv 
all in all, nearly. Hope is light, and courage, and a 
staff; and when I sit down, it is a friend to talk 
with ; and w^hen I suffer, it is an angel to stand by and 


strengthen me ; and when I have wandered away in sin, 
and repented and returned to the right path, then from 
hope I get my peace of mind again, and newness of virtue. 

The morrow of the world is a purpose in the mind of 
God, and so is the great to-morrovs^ of my soul. And I 
can be ^vell contented to have my life subside on the 
bosom of him in ^vhom the day died away this evening 
so beautifully, and in whom it will begin again in the 
morning so grandly. 

O, if there is a heaven for our faith, there are friends 
in it for our love. Love is greater than faith. 

There are some great souls, the very thought of wdiom 
is an increase of faith. 

A truthful heart never breaks ; it strengthens to the 
last. And to the last we will trust. God is almighty ; 
then all things are his mightiness, and all life is his w^ill. 
* * * * And to us joys shall be the will of God, and 
so shall pains and sorrows be. Providence is in all 
things, so that whatever we do not understand shall be to 
us nothing to be frightened about, but it shall be mystery 
and the w411 of God. 

I know that darkness is good for me, as well as light, 
and that it is good for me not to know some things, as 
\vell as to know others ; and for myself, I can pray to 
God out of my whole heart, and with the strength of my 
understanding, '- Thy will be done on earth, as it is in 
heaven " ; else there is not a flower, nor an insect, nor a 
bird, nor an animal, nor a day, nor a man, but might 
make me question myself to madness. — William Mount- 

Know of a truth that only the Time-shadows have 


perished, or are perishable ; that the real being of \vhat- 
ever was, and whatever is, and whatever will be, is 
even now and forever. 

Can the earth, w^hich is but dead, and a vision, resist 
Spirits, which have reality, and are alive ? On the 
hardest adamant some footprint of us is stamped in. The 
last rear of the host will read traces of the earliest van. 
But whence? O Heaven, whither? Sense knows not; 
faith knows not ; only that it is through mystery into 
mystery, from God to God. — Thoinas Carlyle. 

Of what import this vacant sky, these puffing elements, 
these insignificant lives, full of selfish loves, and quar- 
rels, and ennui? Every thing is prospective, and inan is 
to live hereafter. That the world is for his education is 
the only sane solution of the enigma. All the comfort I 
have found, teaches me to confide that I shall not have 
less in times and places that I do not yet know. All I 
have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have 
not seen. Whatever it be wdiich the great Providence 
prepares for us, it must be something large and generous, 
and in the great style of his works. 

The love that will be annihilated sooner than be 
treacherous has already made death impossible, and 
affirms itself no mortal, but a native of the deeps of 
absolute and inextinguishable being. — R, W, Emer- 


'Tis only when they spring to heaven that angels 
Reveal themselves to you ; they sit all day 
Beside you ; and lie down at night by you, 
Who care not for their presence — muse or sleep — 
And all at once they leave you and you know them! 


Dear Festus, lay me. 
When I shall die, \Yithin some narrow grave, 
Not by itself — for that would be too proud — 
But where such graves are thickest : let it look 
Nowise distinguished from the hillocks round, 
So that the peasant at his brother's bed 
May tread upon my own and know it not ; 
And we shall all be equal at the last. 
Or classed according to life's natural ranks. 
Fathers, sons, brothers, friends — not rich, nor wise. 
Nor gifted. 

In man^s self arise 
August anticipations, symbols, types 
Of a dim splendor ever on before. 
In that eternal circle run by life : 
For men begin to pass their nature's bound. 
And find new hopes and cares which fast supplant 
Their proper joys and griefs ; and outgrow all 
The narrow creeds of right and wrong, which fade 
Before the unmeasured thirst for good ; while peace 
Rises within them ever more and more. 

If I stoop 
Into a dark, tremendous sea of cloud. 
It is but for a time ; I press God's lamp 
Close to my breast — its splendor, soon or late. 
Will pierce the gloom : I shall emerge one day ! 

Robert Broiviting, 

The life of the Spirit is the evidence [of immortality]. 
Heaven begun is the living proof that makes the heaven 
to come credible. '^ Christ in you is the hope of glory." 
It is the eagle eye of faith which penetrates the grave, 
and sees far into the tranquil things of death. He alone 
can believe in immortality who feels the resurrection in 
him already. — F, W, Robertson, 

We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breath ; 
In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 


We should count time by heart-throbs. 
He most lives 
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best. 
Life is but a means unto an end ; that end, 
Beginning, mean and end to all things, God! — Bailey. 

We have all felt, when looking above us into the 
atmosphere, that there was an infinity of space which we 
could not explore. When I look into inan's spirit, and 
see there the germs of an immortal life, I feel more 
deeply that an infinity lies hid beyond what I see. In 
the idea of duty, which springs ujd in every human heart, 
I discern a law more sacred and boundless than gravita- 
tion, which binds the soul to a more, glorious universe 
than that to which attraction binds the body, and which 
is to endure though the laws of physical nature pass 
away. Every moral sentiment, every intellectual action, 
is to me a hint, a prophetic sign, of a spiritual power 
to be expanded forever, just as a faint ray from a distant 
star is significant of unimaginable splendor. 

Dream not of a heaven into which you may enter, 
live as you may. To such as waste the present state, 
the future will not, cannot bring happiness. There is 
no concord between them and that world of purity. x\ 
human being who has lived without God, and without 
self-improvement, can no more enjoy heaven than a 
mouldering body, lifted from the tomb and placed 
amidst beautiful prospects, can enjoy the light through its 
decayed eyes, or feel the balmy air which blows away 
its dust. 

Heaven is in truth revealed to us in every pure affec- 
tion of the human heart, and in every wise and beneficent 
action that uplifts the soul in adoration and gratitude. 


For heaven is only purity, wisdom, benevolence, joy, 
peace, in their perfected form. Thus the immortal life 
may be said to surround us perpetually. Some beams of 
its glory shine upon us in whatever is lovely, heroic, and 
virtuously happy in ourselves or in others. The pure 
mind carries heaven within itself, and manifests that 
heaven to all around. 

Immortal happiness is nothing more than the unfolding 
of our own minds, the full, bright exercise of our best 
powers ; and these powers are never to be unfolded here 
or hereafter, but through our own free exertion. 

The truth is that all action on earth, even the intensest, 
is but the sport of childhood compared with the energy 
and activity of that higher life. It must be so. For 
what principles are so active as intellect, benevolence, 
the love of truth, the thirst for perfection, sympathy with 
the suffering, and devotion to God's purposes? and these 
are the ever-expanding principles of the future life. 
— W. E, Chaining, 

So live that when thy summons tomes to join 

The innumerable caravan, which moves 

To that mysterious realm where each shall take 

His chamber in the silent halls of death, 

Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, 

Scourged 'to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed 

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, 

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 

About him and lies down to pleasant dreams.-— W. C. Bryant. 

I see the autumn prefigured in the spring. The 
flowers of May-day foretold the harvest, its rosy apples, 
and its yellow ears of corn. As the bud now lying cold 
and close upon the bark of every tree throughout our 


northern clime is a silent prophecy of yet another spring 
and other summers, and harvests too, so this instinctive 
love of justice, scantily budding here and nipped by 
adverse fate, silently but clearly tells of the kingdom of 

I cannot think the future world is to be feared, 
even by the vs^orst of men. I had rather die a sinner 
than live one. Doubtless justice is there to be done ; 
that may seem stern and severe. But remember, God's 
justice is not like a man's ; it is not vengeance, but 
mercy ; not poison, but medicine. To me it seems 
tuition more than chastisement. God is not the jailer of 
the universe, but the Shepherd of the people ; not the 
hangman of mankind, but their Physician ; yes, our 
Father. I cannot fear him as I fear man. I cannot fail 
to love. ***** Does not even the hireling shepherd, 
when a single lamb has gone astray, leave the ninety 
and nine safe in their fold, go forth some stormy night 
and seek the wanderer, rejoicing to bring home the lost 
one on his shoulders? And shall God forget his child, 
his frailest or most stubborn child ; leave him in endless 
misery, a prey to insatiate sin, — that grim, bloodthirsty 
wolf, prowling about the human fold ? I tell you no ; 
not God. 

The more I live, the more I love this lovely world ; 
feel more its Author in each little thing, in all that is 
great. But yet I feel my immortality the more. In 
childhood the consciousness of immortal life buds forth 
feeble, though full of promise. In the man it unfolds its 
fragrant petals, his most celestial flower, to mature its 
seed throughout eternity. — Theodore Parker, 


God judges by a light 
Which baffles mortal sight. 
In His vast world above, 
A world of broader love, 
God hath some grand employment for his son. — Faber. 

More and more do I feel that this nature of mine is the 
deep ground-warrant for faith in God and immortahty. 
Everywhere in creation there is a proportion between 
means and ends, — between all natures and their destinies. 
And can it be that my soul, which, in its few days' 
unfolding, is already stretching out its hands to God and 
to eternity, and which has all its being and ^velfare 
^vrapped up in those sublime verities, is made to strive 
and sigh for them in vain, to stretch out its hands to — 
nothing .^ 

'• Onward ! " is the call of many a great hour of our 
being; ^'on^vard! to the battle — and victory!" And 
to this earth-strife that .presses upon us every day, to this 
solemn waiting, — to this dim bordering upon the realm 
of boundless light, is there not a voice that says, 
''Onward! onward forever!" Beautiful phrase that 
describes the departed, ''they have passed on." Not, 
'' they are dead " ; but — " they have passed on " ! 

Progress, then, is our being's motto and hope. Gaining 
and losing in this v^'orld, rising and falling, enjoying 
and suffering, are but the incidents of life. Learning, 
aspiration, progress, is the life of life. Onward ! then, 
pilgrims to eternity ! The day is far spent for some of 
us, the night is at hand ; and over its sublime portal 
through which the evening stars of this world, but the 
morning stars of eternity, are shining, is written, '*Ey« 
hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into 


the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared 
for them that love him." 

Death I what art thou to the Christian's assurance? 
Great hour of answer to h'fe's prayer ; great hour that 
shall break asunder the bond of life's mystery ; hour of 
release from life's burden ; hour of reunion with the 
loved and lost ; what mighty hopes hasten to their ful- 
filment in thee ! What longings, what aspirations, 
breathe in the still night beneath the silent stars ; what 
dread emotions of curiosity ; what deep meditations of 
joy ; what hallowed imaginings of never experienced 
purity and bliss ; what possibilities shadowing forth 
unspeakable realities to the soul, all verge to their 
consummation in thee ! O death ! the Christian's death ! 
what art thou but the gate of life, the portal of heaven, 
the threshold of eternity ? — Orville Dewey. 

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting : 
The soul that riseth with us, our life's star, 

Hath had elsewhere its setting, 
And Cometh from afar ; 

Not in entire forgetfulness. 

And not in utter nakedness. 
But trailing clouds of glory do we come 

From God, who is our home. — Wordsworth, 

Let us learn to look on death as an appointment, not 
a fatality ; as an appointment of our Heavenly Father, 
who alone has the power ; as appointed in wisdom and 
love, because appointed by him. ***** To die, is 
to be set free ; free from the fetters of a body which is 
dying while it lives, and from the narrow bounds of a 
restricted state. To die, is to go with our conscience 
and character only, into the presence of our Judge, To 


every temple there is a portal, and a passage from the one 
to the other. This mortal life is the portal which stands 
before the grand temple of eternity ; and death is the 
passage between them. — F, TV, jP. Greenwood, 

The very greatness of that love which makes the hour 
of separation dark and painful gives rise to high and 
holy duties in doing the v^'ork which we think the puri- 
fied spirits of our friends w^ould wish to have done. 
— Richard Metcalf, 

That future world, instead of a boundless abyss of 
darkness is a region of life and light. * * * While the 
sun is above the horizon, the heavens seem empty, and 
the earth alone seems looked on by that shining orb. 
But as the sun sinks and the shadows fall across the hills, 
one by one the stars are ushered into the sky, a glorious 
host, innumerable worlds, showing forth the wisdom and 
power of God. Then we perceive how much, all the 
time, has been around us, and how infinitely more vast 
and sublime was that which in the brightness of day ^vas 
unseen, than what was visible. So revelation draws 
aside from the eye of the spirit the veil between, and we 
behold the empty void filled with those whom we called 
dead, alive again, — the mortal become immortal; and 
the earth itself appears but the threshold of a vast abode, 
peopled by the creatures and filled with the light of 
the infinite Love. — Ephraim Peabody, 

Let us trustingly leave these matters — where, indeed, 
whether trustingly or not, we must leave them — with 
the infinite Love vv^hich embraces all our loves, and the 


infinite Wisdom which comprehends all our needs ; 
assured that the Father of the house whose mansions are 
many, and the Father of spirits whose goal is one, will 
find the right place and connections and nurture for every 
soul he has caused to be ; that in the eternities the 
thing desired will arrive at last ; that seeking and finding 
are divinely evened. Let us rest in the thought that 
life must be richer than all our experience, nay, than 
our fondest dreams. — F. H. Hedge, 

When, by nobler culture, by purer experience, by 
breathing the air of a higher duty, vitality at length 
creeps into the scul, the instincts of immortality will 
wake within us. The word of hope will speak to us a 
language no longer strange. We shall feel like the 
captive bird carried accidentally to its own land, when 
hearing for the first time the burst of kindred song from 
its native ^voods, it beats instinctively the bar of its 
cage in yearning for the free air. 

A single instant of the Divine life, spread over all that is 
simultaneous, is worth an eternity of ours, which at least 
begins by taking all things one by one. And in propor- 
tion as ^ve emerge from this childhood of the mind, and 
claim our approach to union ^vith God, will the contents 
of our experience enrich themselves, and its area correct 
its evanescence ; till a mere moment may become worth a 
millennium before ; and the Transient may be to the large 
soul more than the Everlasting to the little : and then 
whether our Time be long or short by Sun and Moon 
we may well remain indifferent, since the life that 
is beyond time and nature is vivid within us. 

When, therefore, in higher moments brought by the 


sorrows of life, the tensions of duty, or the silence of 
thought, you catch some faint tones of a voice diviner 
than your own, know that you are not alone, and who 
it is that is with you. Stay not in the cold monologue 
of solitary meditation, but fling yourself into the com- 
munion of prayer. Fold not the personal shadows round 
you ; lie open to the gleam that pierces them ; confide in 
it as the brightest of realities, — a path of heavenly light 
streaking the troubled waters of 3'our being, and leading 
your eye to the orb that sends it. — James Martineau, 

The household to which the angel of death has come 
can never foro^et his coming-. The shadow which his 
wings have cast over the soul must remain, however 
clearly the light from God's own love may shine. 

Yes, when \ve are most perfectly resigned to his will, 
and most perfectly consoled under the loss by the dear 
promises of Christ, and most happy in the sweet hope of 
reunion with the dead, and most faithful in using the 
discipline which we know to be for our own good, the 
loss, in itself considered, may then seem, as it perhaps 
then becomes, greater than it ever was before. By the 
completeness of spiritual experience is the depth of our 
sorrow revealed. By the spiritual development of our 
aflections the sacredness of earthly affection and of earthly 
relations is first discerned. A part of the blessing upon 
those who mourn comes by learning the greatness of 
their loss. 

Hearts which rejoice cannot come so near to each 
other as hearts which grieve. Tears mingle more per- 
fectly than smiles, and the chain of family love on earth 
becomes much stronger when some of its links are in 


We need to learn that the purpose of the tree is to 
bear fruit, not flowers ; and that the wisdom and good- 
ness of God may abound only the more at the time when 
the blossoms fall. — IV. G. Eliot, ' 

And shall heaven have no children in it? Must none 
but gray hairs pass through its gates? Or shall not, 
rather, glad, gleesome children, with flow^ing hair and 
merry eyes, go with laughter through its doorways, to 
meet ''their angels " who ''do always behold the face 
of their Father in heaven " ? 

Let us not forget that there are two sides to dying, — 
this earth side and the heaven side. The stars that go 
out when inorning comes do not stop shining ; only 
some other eyes in some other land are made glad by 
them. — iW, y. Savage. 

Yet Love will dream, and Faith will trust, 
(Since He who knows our need is just,) 
That somehow, somewhere, meet we must. 
Alas for him who never sees 
The stars shine through his cypress trees ! 
Who, hopeless, lays his dead away. 
Nor looks to see the breaking day 
Across the mournful marbles play ! 
Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, 

The truth to flesh and sense unknown. 
That Life is ever Lord of Death, 

And Love can never lose its own ! — Whittie7\ 

If this life is all, there is no place for such a faculty as 
conscience with its lash of remorse in one hand, and its 
peace like a river, in the other. ***** The step 
from instinct to freedom and conscience, is a step from 


time to eternity. Conscience is not truly correlated to 
human life. The ethical implies the eternal. 

If I were to construct one all-embracino: aro;ument for 
immortality, and were to put it into one word, it would 
be — God. ^ * * * * It was Christ's realization of the 
living God that rendered his own conviction of eternal 
life so absolute. 

If the cup of life is full, there is little sense of past or 
future ; the present is enough. * * * ^ When Christ 
speaks of eternal life, he does not mean future endless 
existence ; this may be involved, but it is an inference or 
secondary thought ; he means instead fullness or perfec- 
tion of life. That it will go on forever, is a matter of 
course, but it is not the important feature of the truth. 
— T, T, Mtmger, 

We talk of immortality ; but there is a better phrase 
than that, — the word of Jesus, ''eternal life." That 
implies not mere duration, but quality. It blends the 
present and the future in one. It sets before us a state 
into which we are called to enter now, and into ^vhich 
as we enter we find ourselves at home in our Father's 
house, beyond the power of doubt and fear. 

Mere continuance of existence, — wdiat is it? That 
bowlder yonder has existed for ages, a very eternity to 
the imagination ; and it is only a bowlder after all. One 
hour of throbbing human life is worth more than its 
barren eternity. What is it to you or me whether we go 
on living, if life to us is made up of petty and ignoble 
thoughts and occupations ? The real trouble with most 
of us is not the doubt whether we shall live hereafter, 
but the fact that as yet we have hardly begun to live 
at all. 


Nothing Is so completely beyond the power of death 
as a noble love. Parting can shatter only its outward 
shell. Under that strange touch, love in its inmost 
recesses kindles and glows with a divine fire. Whom of 
the livinsr do we love as we love our dead? Whom else 
do we hold so sacredly and so surely ? Not as a memory 
of a lost past, — nothing in our present is so real as they, 
and toward our unknowm future we go with a great and 
solemn gladness, beckoned by their presence. — Geo. 
S. JVIerriam, 

This is the cnange that comes. We are not afraid 
any more of our Father. We are not all happy. But 
if he says go, you will know that it is well, and you will 
not be afraid. You know it is the Father. Do not say 
God, that is far off — He is our Father. 

And the little Pilgrim's voice echoed away through 
the great firmament to other w^orlds. And it breathed 
over the earth like some one saying Courage ! to those 
whose hearts w^ere failing ; and it dropped down into 
the great confusion and traffic of the land of darkness, 
and startled many, ' like the voice of a child calling 
and calling, and never ceasing. Come I and come ! and 
come ! — Mrs. Ollphant. 

The leaves, though thick, are falling : one by one 

Decayed they drop from off their parent tree; 
Their work with Autumn's latest day is done,— 

Thou see'st them borne upon the breezes free. 
They lie strewn here and there, their many dyes 

That yesterday so caught thv passing eye ; 
Soiled by the rain, each leaf neglected lies, 

Upon the path where now thou hurriest by. 


Yet think thee not their beauteous tints less fair 
Than when they hung so gayly o'er thy head ; 

But rather find thee eyes, and look thee there 
Where now thy feet so heedless o'er them tread, 

And thou shalt see, where wasting now they lie, 
The unseen hues of immortality. — Jones Very, 




^'' Benedidus qui veiiit in nomi^ie Domini.'''' 

Who is the Angel that cometh? 

Let us not question what he brings, 

Peace or strife ; 
Under the shade of his mighty wings. 
One by one, 
Are his secrets told; 
One by one. 
Lit by the rays of each morning's sun, 
Shall a new flower its petals unfold, 
With the mystery hid in its heart of gold. 
We will arise and go forth to greet him, 
Singly, gladly, with one accord, — 

" Blessed is he that cometh 
In the name of the Lord ! " 

Who is the Angel that cometh ? 

Let us arise and go forth to greet him ; 

Not in vain 
Is the summons come for us to meet him; 
He will stay. 
And darken our sun ; 
He will stay 
A desolate night, a weary day. 

Since in that shadow our work is done, 
And in that shadow our crowns are won, 
Let us say still while his bitter chalice 
Slowly into our hearts is poured, — 

" Blessed is he that cometh 
In the name of the Lord ! " 



Who is the Angel that cometh ? 

Death ! 
But do not shudder and do not fear ; 

Hold your breath, 
For a kingly presence is drawing near, 
Cold and bright 
Is his flashing steel, 
Cold and bright 
The smile that comes like a starry light 
To calm the terror and grief we feel ; 
He comes to help and to save and to heal : 
Then let us, baring our hearts and kneeling, • 
Sing, w^hile we wait this Angel's sword, — 

" Blessed is he that cometh 
In the name of the Lord ! " 

Adelaide Procter, 

2Be 33roCuntii»» 

The face which, duly as the sun, 
Rose up for me with life begun, 
To mark all bright hours of the day 
With hourly love, is dimmed away, — 
And yet my days go on, go on. 

The tongue which, like a stream, could run 
Smooth music from the roughest stone, 
And every morning with " Good day " 
Make each day good, is hushed away, — 
And yet my days go on, go on. 

The heart which, like a staff, was one 
For mine to lean and rest upon ; 
The strongest on the longest day 
With steadfast love, is caught away, — 
And yet my days go on, go on. 

And cold before my summer's done, 
And deaf in Nature's general tune. 
And fallen too low for special fear. 
And here, with hope no longer here, — 
While the tears drop, my days go on. 


This Nature, though the snows be down, 
Thinks kindly of the bird of June : 
The little red hip on the tree 
Is ripe for such. What is for me, 
Whose days so winterly go on ? 

I ask less kindness to be done, — 
Only to loose these pilgrim shoon, 
(Too early worn and grimed) with sweet, 
Cool, deathly touch to these tired feet, 
Till days go out which now go on. 

A Voice reproves me thereupon. 
More sweet than Nature's when the drone 
Of bees is sweetest, and more deep 
Than when the rivers overleap 

The shuddering pines, and thunder on. 

God's Voice, not Nature's. Night and noon 
He sits upon the great white throne 
And listens for the creature's praise. 
What babble we of days and days ? 
The Day-spring he, whose days go on. 

He reigns above, he reigns alone ; 
Systems burn out and leave his throne : 
Fair mists of seraphs melt and fall 
Around him, changeless amid all, — 
Ancient of days, whose days go on. 

For us, — whatever's undergone, 
Thou knowest, wiliest what is done. 
Grief may be joy misunderstood ; 
Only the Good discerns the good. 
I trust thee while my days go on. 

Whatever's lost, it first was won ; 
We will not struggle nor impugn. 
Perhaps the cup was broken here 
That Heaven's new wine might show more clear. 
I praise thee while my days go on. 


I praise thee while my days go on ; 
I love thee while my days go on ; 
Through dark and dearth, through fire and frost, 
With emptied arms and treasure lost. 
I thank thee while my days go on. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 

Beside a massive gateway built up in years gone by, 
Upon whose top the clouds in eternal shadow lie, 
While streams the evening sunshine on quiet wood and lea, 
I stand and calmly wait till the hinges turn for me. 

The tree-tops faintly rustle beneath the breeze's flight, 
A soft and soothing sound, yet it whispers of the night ; 
I hear the wood-thrush piping one mellow descant more. 
And scent the flowers that blow when the heat of day is o'er. 

Behold, the portals open, and o'er the threshold, now, 
There steps a weary one with a pale and furrowed brow; 
His count of years is full, his allotted task is wrought ; 
He passes to his rest from a place that needs him not. 

In sadness then I ponder how quickly fleets the hour 
Of human strength and action, man's courage and his power. 
I muse while still the wood-thrush sings down the golden day, 
And as I look and listen the sadness wears away. 

Again the hinges turn, and a youth, departing, throws 
A look of longing backward, and sorrowfully goes ; 
A blooming maid, unbinding the roses from her hair. 
Moves mournfully away from amid the young and fair. 

O glory of our race that so suddenly decays ! 

O crimson flush of morning that darkens as we gaze ! 

O breath of summer blossoms that on the restless air 

Scatters a moment's sweetness, and flies we know not where! 


I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn ; 
But still the sun shines round me : the evening bird sings on, 
And I again am soothed, and, beside the ancient gate, 
In the soft evening sunlight, I calmly stand and wait. 

Once more the gates are opened ; an infant group go out, 

The sweet smile quenched forever, and stilled the sprightly shout. 

frail, frail tree of Life, that upon the greensward strows 
Its fair young buds unopened, with every wind that blows ! 

So come from every region, so enter, side by side, 
The strong and faint of spirit, the meek and men of pride. 
Steps of earth's great and mighty, between those pillars gray, 
And prints of little feet, mark the dust along the way. 

And some approach the threshold whose looks are blank with fear, 
And some whose temples brighten with joy in drawing near, 
As if they saw dear faces, and caught the gracious eye 
Of him, the Sinless Teacher, who came for us to die. 

1 mark the joy, the terror ; yet these, within my heart, 
Can neither w^ake the dread nor the longing to depart; 
And, in the sunshine streaming on quiet w^ood and ^ea, 
I calmly stand and wait till the hinges turn for me. 



Take them, O Death ! and bear away 
Whatever thou canst call thine own ! 

Thine image, stamped upon this clay, 
Doth give thee that, but that alone ! 

Take them, O Grave ! and let them lie 
Folded upon thy narrow shelves, 

As garments by the soul laid by. 
And precious only to ourselves ! 

Take them, O great Eternity ! 

Our little life is but a gust 
That bends the branches of thy tree , 

And trails its blossoms in the dust! 



Dropping down the troubled river. 

To the tranquil, tranquil shore ; 
Dropping down the misty river. 
Time's willow-shaded river, 

To the spring embosomed shore ; 
Where the sweet light shineth ever. 

And the sun goes down no more ; 

O wondrous, wondrous shore ! 

Dropping down the winding river. 

To the wide and welcome sea ; 
Dropping down the narrow river, 
Man's weary, wayward river, 

To the blue and ample sea ; 
Where no tempest wrecketh ever. 

Where the sky is fair and free ; 

O joyous, joyous sea! 

Dropping down the noisy river. 

To our peaceful, peaceful home; 
Dropping down the turbid river, 
Earth's bustling, crowded river. 

To our gentle, gentle home : 
Where the rough roar riseth never. 

And the vexings cannot come, 

O loved and longed-for home ! 

Dropping down the rapid river, 

To the dear and deathless land ; 
Dropping down the well-known river, 
Life's swoln and rushing river 

To the resurrection-land; 
Where the living live forever, 

And the dead have joined the band. 

In that fair and blessed land ! 

Horatms Bonar. 


^|)e Bcsertcti ^l^ouse. 

Life and Thought have gone away 
Side by side, 
Leaving door and windows wide. 
Careless tenants they ! 

All within is dark as night; 
In the windows is no light ; 
And no murmur at the door, 
So frequent on its hinge before. 

Close the door, the shutters close. 
Or through the windows we shall see 
The nakedness and vacancy 

Of the dark, deserted house. 

Come away : no more of mirth 

Is here or merry-making sound. 
The house was builded of the earth, 

And shall fall again to ground. 

Come away : for Life and Thought 

Here no longer dwell ; 

But in a city glorious — 
A great and distant city — have bought 

A mansion incorruptible. 
Would they could have stayed with us ! 


Srje (S:i)armer. 

" We need some charmer, for our hearts are sore 
With longing for the things that may not be ; 
Faint for the friends that shall return no more ; 
Dark with distrust, or wrung with agony. 

" What is this life ? and what to us is death ? 

Whence came we ? whither go ? and where are those 
Who, in a moment stricken from our side. 
Passed to that land of shadow and repose ? 


" And are they dust ? and dust must we become ? 
Or are they living in some unknown clime ? 
Shall we regain them in that far-off home, 
And live anew beyond the waves of time ? " 

So spake the youth of Athens, weeping round, 

AY hen Socrates lay calmly down to die ; 
So spake the sage, prophetic of the hour 

When earth's fair morning-star should rise on high. 

They found him not, those youths of soul divine, 
Long seeking, wandering, watching on life's shore — 

Reasoning, aspiring, yearning for the light, 

Death came and found them — doubting as before. 

But years passed on ; and lo ! the Charmer came — 
Pure, simple, sweet, as comes the silver dew ; 

And the world knew him not — he w'alked alone, 
Encircled only by his trusting few. 

*' Let not your heart be troubled," then he said; 

" My Father's house hath mansions large and fair; 
I go before you to prepare your place ; 

I will return to take you with me there." 

And since that hour the awful foe is charmed, 

And life and death are glorified and fair. 
Whither he w^ent w^e know — the way we know — 

And with firm step press on to meet him there. 

H. B. Stowe. 

^ CSetman jfuneral JJ^^mn. 

^^ Here we have no co7itimniig aty , bid we seek one to come.^'' — heb. xiii., 14. 

Come forth ! Come on ! with solemn song ! 
The road is short, the rest is long. 
The Lord brought here, he calls away, 

Make no delay, 
This home was for a passing day. 


Here in an inn a stranger dwelt, 
Here joy and grief by turns he felt ; 
Poor dwelling, now we close thy door, 

The talk is o'er. 
The sojourner returns no more. 

Now of a lasting home possessed, 
He goes to seek a deeper rest. 
Good-night ! the day was sultry here, 

In toil and fear ; 
Good-night ! the night is cool and clear. 

Now open to us, gates of peace ! 
Here let the pilgrim's journey cease. 
Ye quiet slumberers, make room 

In your still home, 
For the new stranger who has come. 

How many graves around us lie ! 
How many homes are in the sky ! 
Yes, for each saint doth Christ prepare 

A place with care ; 
Thy home is waiting, brother, there. 

F. Sachse. 

iSassinfl ^toag- 

The fragrance of the rose. 
Whose dewy leaves in morning's light unclose. 

Goes not more sweetly up 
From its rich heart, as from an incense cup. 
Than thy freed spirit from its earthly shrine 
Passed with the still angel to the rest divine. 

Oh no ! Thou didst not die ! 
Thou hast but lain the soul's frail vesture by. 

And soared to that pure height 
Where day serene is followed by no night, 
And where the discipline of mortal woe 
No shadow over thee can ever throw. 


Death never comes to such 
With chilhiess in the mystery of his touch : 

They gently pass away 
As melts the morning star in golden day ; 

They leave the places they have known below, 
And through the white gates of the morning go. 

We w^ould not call thee back 
To the frail flow^ers that wither on our track, 

Perhaps to have thy feet 
Pierced by the thorns that we so often meet : 
For thou art in that fairer world than ours 
Where love mourns not the fading of the flowers. 

Why should we weep for thee 
When thy pure soul from every ill is free ? 

Our only tears should flow 
For those, the loved, w^ho linger still below, 
From w^hom the light of thy dear smile is fled, 
Who feel indeed that thou art with the dead. 

We know the gloomy grave 
Holds not the spirit which our Father gave ; 

That loving, lustrous light, 
That made the sphere in which it moved so bright. 
Is shining with a clear and quenchless flame. 
Rekindled at the source from whence it came. 

Thou art not dead ! For death 
Can only take away the mortal breath ; 

And life, commencing here. 

Is but the prelude to its full career ; 

And Hope and Faith the blest assurance give — 

" We do not live to die ! We die to live ! " 


^ulti ILattg ^sne. 

It singeth low in every heart. 

We hear it, each and all, — 
A song of those who answ^er not, 

However we may call ; 


They throng the silence of the breast, 

We see them as of yore, — 
The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet, 

Who walk with us no more ! 

'Tis hard to take the burden up. 

When these have laid it down; 
They brightened all the joy of life, 

They softened every frown ; 
But oh, 'tis good to think of them, 

When we are troubled sore ! 
Thanks be to God that such have been, 

Though they are here no more ! 

More homelike seems the vast unknown. 

Since they have entered there ; 
To follow them were not so hard, 

W^herever they may fare ; 
They cannot be where God is not, 

On any sea or shore ; 
W^hate'er betides, thy love abides. 

Our God, forevermore ! 

/. W. Chadwick. 

2[l)e ©t!)er Sitie. 

Climbing the mountain's shaggy crest, 
I wondered much what sight would greet 
My eager gaze whene'er my feet 

Upon the topmost height should rest. 

The other side was all unknown; 

But, as I slowly toiled along. 

Sweeter to me than any song 
My dream of visions to be shown. 

At length the topmost height was gained ; 

The other side was full in view ; 

My dreams — not one of them was true, 
But better far had I attained. 


For far and wide on either hand 

There stretched a valley broad and fair. 
With greenness flashing everywhere, — 

A pleasant, smiling, home-like land. 

Who knows, I thought, but so 'twill prove 

Upon that mountain-top of death. 

Where we shall draw diviner breath, 
And see the long-lost friends we love. 

It may not be as we have dreamed, 
Not half so awful, strange, and grand ; 
A quiet, peaceful, home-like land. 

Better than e'er in vision gleamed. 

J. W. Chadwick, 

I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls 
The burial-ground God's-Acre ! It is just ; 

It consecrates each grave within its walls, 
And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust. 

God's-Acre ! Yes, that blessed name imparts 
Comfort to those, who in the grave have sown 

The seed that they had garnered in their hearts, -_ 

Their bread of life, alas ! no more their own. 

Into its furrows shall we all be cast. 

In the sure faith that we shall rise again 
At the great harvest, when the archangel's blast 

Shall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain. 

Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom. 

In the fair gardens of that second birth ; 
And each bright blossom mingle its perfume 

With that of flowers, which never bloomed on earth. 

With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod. 
And spread the furrow for the seed we sow; 

This is the field and Acre of our God, 

This is the place where human harvests grow ! 

H. W,Lo7igfellow, 


^fter ©eatj) fn ^ralifa. 

He who died at Azan sends 
This to comfort all his friends :. 

Faithful friends ! it lies, I know, 
Pale and white and cold as snow ; 
And ye say, " Abdallah's dead ! " 
Weeping at the feet and head. 
I can see your falling tears, 
I can hear your sighs and prayers ; 
Yet I smile and whisper this, — 
"/am not the thing you kiss. 
Cease your tears and let it lie : 
It was mine, it is not I." 

" Sweet friends, what the women lave, 
For the last sleep of the grave, 
Is a hut which I am quitting. 
Is a garment no more fitting. 
Is a cage from which, at last, 
Like a bird my soul hath passed. 
Love the inmate, not the room, — 
The wearer, not the garb, — the plume 
Of the falcon, not the bars 
Which kept him from those splendid stars. 

" Loving friends ! be wise, and dry 
Straightway every weeping eye, — 
What ye lift upon the bier 
Is not worth a wistful tear. 
'Tis an empty sea-shell, — one 
Out of which the pearl is gone ; 
The shell is broken, it lies there : 
The pearl, the all, the soul, is here. 
'Tis an earthen jar, whose lid 
Allah sealed, the while it hid 
That treasure of his treasury, 
A mind that loved him ; let it lie ! 
Let the shard be earth's once more, 
Since the gold shines in his store ! 


"Allah glorious! Allah good ! 
Now thy world is understood ; 
Now the long, long wonder ends ; 
Yet ye weep, my erring friends, 
While the man whom ye call dead, 
In unspoken bliss, instead. 
Lives and loves you, — lost, 'tis true. 
By such light as shines for you ; 
But in the light ye cannot see • 

Of unfulfilled felicity, — 
In a perfect paradise, 
And a life that never dies. 

" Farewell, friends ! Yet not farewell : 
Where I am, ye, too, shall dwell. 
I am gone before your face 
A moment's time, a little space. 
When ye come where I have stepped, 
Ye will wonder why ye wept ; 
Ye will know, by wise love taught. 
That here is all, and there is naught. 
Weep awhile, if ye are fain : 
Sunshine still must follow rain ; 
Only not at death, — for death, 
Now I know, is that first breath 
Which our souls draw when we enter 
Life, which is of all life centre. 

" Be ye certain all seems love. 
Viewed from Allah's throne above ; 
Be ye stout of heart, and come 
Bravely onward to your home ! 
La Allah ilia Allah ! yea ! 
Thou Love divine ! Thou Love alway ! '' 

He that died at Azan gave 

This to those who made his grave. 

Edwin Ar7iold, 


^ux Beatr. 

Nothing is our own ; we hold our pleasures 

Just a little while, ere they are fled : 
One by one life robs us of our treaures ; 

Nothing is our owai except our Dead. 

They are ours, and hold in faithful keeping, 

Safe forever, all they took away. 
Cruel life can never stir that sleeping, 

Cruel time can never seize that prey. 

Justice pales ; truth fades ; stars fall from heaven ; 

Human are the great whom we revere : 
No true crown of honor can be given, 

Till we place it on a funeral bier. 

How the children leave us : and no traces 

Linger of that smiling angel band ; 
Gone, forever gone ; and in their places 

Weary men and anxious women stand. 

Yet we have some little ones, still ours : 
They have kept the baby smile we know, 

Which we kissed one day, and hid with flowers. 
On their dead w^hite faces, long ago. 

Is Love ours, and do we dream we know it, 
Bound with all our heart-strings, all our own ? 

Any cold and cruel dawn may show it. 
Shattered, desecrated, overthrown. 

Only the dead hearts forsake us never ; 

Death's last kiss has been the mystic sign 
Consecrating Love our ow^n forever, 

Crowning it eternal and divine. 

So when Fate would fain besiege our city, 

Dim our gold, or make our flowers fall, 
Death, the Angel, comes in love and pity, 

And, to save our treasures, claims them all. 

Adelaide A. Frocter* 


E\)t IBeati. 

The dead are like the stars by day, 

Withdrawn from mortal eye, 
Yet holding unperceived their way 

Through the unclouded sky. 

By them, through holy hope and love, 

We feel in hours serene, 
Connected with a world above, 

Immortal and unseen. 

For Death his sacred seal hath set 

On bright and bygone hours ; 
And they we mourn are with us vet. 

Are more than ever ours ; — 

Ours by the pledge of love and faith. 

By hopes of heaven on high ; 
By trust triumphant over death, 

In immortalit}'. 


33oix I'o^jagc. 

There's not an hour but from some sparkling beach 

Go joyful men, in fragile ships, to sail 

By unknown seas to unknown lands. They hail 

The freshening winds with eager hope, and speech 

Of wondrous countries which they soon w'll reach. 

Left on the shore, we wave our hands, with pale 

Wet cheeks, but hearts that are ashamed to quail, 

Or own the grief which selfishness would teach. 

O Death ! the fairest lands beyond thy sea 

Lie waiting, and thy barks are swift and staunch 

And readv. Why do we reluctant launch ? 

And when our friends their heritage have claimed 

Of thee and entered on it, rich and free. 

Oh ! why of sorrow are we not ashamed t 

U. H. 


A little fold of hands, 
A little drop of sands. 
And the freed spirit stands 

Beyond the veil victorious ; 
Where the sands of life ne'er run, 
And the day is never done. 
Eternity is won, 

Eternity all glorious. 

Ye, who within life's slow 
And long procession go. 
Who 'mid the sullen flow 

Of storms and tempests wander, — 
Ye name me Death ! Ye call 
Me cursed for the pall 
That once must fold o'er all — 

Birth, they have named me yonder ? 

Joshua Swan. 


Answer me, burning stars of night ! 

Where is the spirit gone, 
That past the reach of human sight 

As a swift breeze hath flown ? 
And the stars answered me : " We roll 

In light and power on high ; 
But, of the never-dying soul, 

Ask that which cannot die.'' 

O many-toned and changeless wind ! 

Thou art a wanderer free ; 
Tell me, if thou its place canst find, 

Far over mount and sea ? 
And the wind murmured in reply : 

" The blue deep I have crossed, 
And met its barks and billows high, « 

But not what thou hast lost." 

124 ^^^^ ^^^ DEATH, 

Ye clouds that gorgeously repose 

Around the setting sun, 
Answer 1 have ye a home for those 

Whose earthly race is run ? 
The bright clouds answered : " We depart. 

We vanish from the sky ; 
Ask what is deathless in thy heart 

For that which cannot die." 

Speak then, thou voice of God within, 

Thou of the deep, low tone ! 
Answer me, through life's restless din — 

W^here is the spirit flown ? 
And the voice answered : " Be thou still ! 

Enough to know is given r 
Clouds, winds, and stars their part fulfil — 

Thine is to trust in Heaven." 

Mrs. Hemans, 

What shall I do with all the days and hours 
That must be counted ere I see thy face ? 

How shall I charm the interval that lowers 

Between this time and that sweet time of grace ? 

I'll tell thee : for thy sake, I will lay hold 
Of all good aims, and consecrate to thee, 

In worthy deeds, each moment that is told 
While thou, beloved one, art far from me. 

For thee, I will arouse my thoughts to try 

All heavenward flights, all high and holy strains ; 

For thy dear sake, I will walk patiently 

Through these long hours, nor call their minutes pains. 

I will this weary blank of absence make 
A noble task-time, and will therein strive 

To foljow excellence, and to o'ertake 

More good than I have won since yet I live. 


So may this darksome time build up in me 
A thousand graces which shall thus be thine ; 

So may my love and longing hallowed be, 
And thy dear thought an influence divine. 

Frances Anne Kemble, 

2ri)e ^itQel of IBeatI). 

Why shouldst thou fear the beautiful angel, Death, 
Who waits thee at the portals of the skies, 

Ready to kiss away thy struggling breath, 
Ready with gentle hand to close thine eyes ? 

How many a tranquil soul has passed away, 
Fled gladly from fierce pain and pleasure's din, 

To the eternal splendor of the day ; 

And many a troubled heart still calls for him. 

Spirits too tender for the battle here 

Have turned from life, its hopes, its fears, its charms ; 
And children, shuddering at a world so drear, 

Have smiling passed away into his arms. 

He whom thou fearest will, to ease its pain. 
Lay his cold hand upon thy aching heart : 

Will soothe the terrors of thy troubled brain, 
And bid the shadows of earth's grief depart. 

He will give back what neither time, nor might. 
Nor passionate prayer, nor longing hope restore, 

(Dear as to long blind eyes recovered sight,) 
He will give back those who are gone before. 

Oh, what were life, if life were all ? Thine eyes 
Are blinded by their tears, or thou wouldst see 

Thy treasures wait thee in the far-off skies, 

And Death, thy friend, will give them all to thee. 

A. A. Procter. 


STJe CKotr of tf)e afbiixfl. 

God of the living, in whose eyes 
Unveiled thy whole creation lies ! 
All souls are thine ; we must not say 
That those are dead who pass away ; 
From this our world of flesh set free, 
We know them living unto thee. 

Released from earthly toil and strife, 

With thee is hidden still their life ; 

Thine are their thoughts, their words, their powers, 

All thine, and yet most truly ours ; 

For well we know, where'er they be, 

Our dead are living unto thee. 

Not spilt like water on the ground. 
Not wrapt in dreamless sleep profound, 
Not wandering in unknown despair 
Beyond thy voice, thine arm, thy care; 
Not left to lie like fallen tree ; 
Not dead, but living unto thee. 

O Breather into man of breath ! 
O Holder of the keys of death ! 
O Giver of the life within ! 
Save us from death, the death of sin. 
That body, soul, and spirit be 
For ever living unto thee ! 

John Ellerton, 

Eiz Silent 3lantr. 

Into the Silent Land ! 
Ah ! who shall lead us thither ? 
Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, 
And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. 
Who leads us with a gentle hand 
Thither, O thither, 
Into the Silent Land ! 


Into the Silent Land ! 
To you, ye boundless regions 
Of all perfection ! Tender morning visions 
Of beauteous souls ! The Future's pledge and band ! 
Who in life's battle firm doth stand, 
Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms 
Into the Silent Land ! 

O Land! O Land! 
For all the broken-hearted 
The mildest herald by our fate allotted, 
Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand 
To lead us with a gentle hand 
To the land of the great Departed, 
Into the Silent Land ! 

From the German of Sails. 


S:t)e j^uture. 


What may we take into the vast Forever ? 

That marble door 
Admits no fruit of all our long endeavor, 

No fame-wreathed crown we wore, 

No garnered lore. 

What can we bear beyond the unknown portal ? 

No gold, no gains 
Of all our toiling : in the life immortal 

No hoarded wealth remains, 

Nor gilds, nor stains. 

Naked from out that far abyss behind us 

We entered here : 
No word came with our coming, to remind us 

What wondrous world was near, 

No hope, no fear. 

Into the silent, starless night before us, 

Naked we glide : 
No hand has mapped the constellations o'er us, 

No comrade at our side. 

No chart, no guide. 


Yet fearless toward the midnight black and hollow, 

Our footsteps fare : 
The beckoning of a Father's hand we follow — 

His love alone is there, 

No curse, no care. 

E. R. Sill, 

ifrom ti)e ©German oC Seopoltr Scjefer 

All that God wounds he constantly is healing, 

Quietly, gently, softly, but most surely ; 

He helps the lowliest herb, with wounded stalk, 

To rise again. 

Deep in the treasure-house of wealthy Nature, 

A ready instinct works and moves 

To clothe the naked sparrow in the nest, 

Or trim the plumage of an aged raven; 

Yes, in the slow decaying of a rose, 

God works as well as in the unfolding bud ; 

He works with gentleness unspeakable 

In Death itself ; a thousand times more careful 

Than even the mother by her sick child watching. 

W^z iEJoir Jinbfsible. 

Oh may I join the choir invisible 

Of those immortal dead who live again 

In minds made better by their presence ; live 

In pulses stirred to generosity, 

In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn 

Of miserable aims that end in self. 

In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, 

And with their mild persistence urge men's minds 

To vaster issues. 

So to live is heaven . 
To make undying music in the world. 
Breathing as beauteous order, that controls 
With growing sway the growing life of man. 


This is life to come, 
Which martyred men have made more glorious 
For us who strive to follow. May I reach 
That purest heaven ; be to other souls 
The cup of strength in some great agony ; 
Enkindle generous ardor ; feed pure love ; 
Beget the smiles that have no cruelty ; 
Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, 
And in diffusion ever more intense. 
So shall I join the choir invisible, 
Whose music is the gladness of the world. 

George Eliot, 

Life ! I know not what thou art. 
But know that thou and I must part ; 
And when, or how, or where we met, 
I own to me 's a secret 3'et. 

Life ! we've been long together, 
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather ; 
'Tis hard to part when friends are dear, — 
Perhaps 't will cost a sigh, a tear ; 
Then steal away, give little warning, 
Choose thine own time ; 
Say not Good Night, — but in some brighter clime 
Bid me Good Morning. 

An7ta L. Barbauld. 

Farewell ! since nevermore for thee 

The sun comes up our eastern skies, 
Less bright henceforth shall sunshine be 

To some fond hearts and saddened eye 

There are, who^for thy last, long sleep. 

Shall sleep as sweetly nevermore ; 
Shall weep because thou canst not weep, 

And grieve that all thy griefs are o'er. 



Fear death ? — to feel the fog in my throat. 

The mist in my face, 
When the snows begin, and the blasts denote 

I am nearing the place, 
The power of the night, the press of the storm. 

The post of the foe ; 
Where he stands, the Arch Fear, in a visible form. 

Yet the strong man must go : 
For the journey is done, and the summit attained. 

And the barriers fall, 
Though a battle 's to fight ere the guerdon be gained. 

The reward of it all. 

For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, 

The black minute 's at end, 
And the element's rage, the fiend-voices that rave, 

Shall dwindle, shall blend. 
Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, 

Then a light, then thy breast, — 
O thou soul of my soul ! I shall clasp thee again. 

And with God be the rest ! 

Robert Broimiiitg. 

if torn X\)z *'2r!)renotr5; 

Wilt thou not ope thy heart to know 

What rainbows te.xh, and sunsets show ? 

Verdict which accumulates 

From lengthening scroll of human fates. 

Voice of earth to earth returned, 

Prayers of saints that inly burned, — 

Saying, What is excelle?it, 

As God lives y is permanent ; 

Hearts are dust, hearts'* loves remain ; 

Hearts^ love will meet thee again. 

Revere the Maker ; fetch thine eye 

Up to his style, and manners of the sky. 


Not of adamant and gold 
Built he heaven stark and cold ; 

Built of tears and sacred flames, 
And virtue reaching to its aims ; 
Built of furtherance and pursuing, 
Not of spent deeds, but of doing. 
Silent rushes the swift Lord 
Through ruined systems still restored, 
Broadsowing, bleak and void to bless, 
Plants with worlds the wilderness ; 
Waters with tears of ancient sorrow 
Apples of Eden ripe to-morrow. 
House and tenant go to ground, 
Lost in God, in Godhead found. 

R. W. Emerson, 

God giveth quietness at last ! 
The common way once more is passed 
From pleading tears and lingerings fond, 
To fuller life and love beyond. 

Fold the wrapt soul in your embrace, 
Dear ones familiar with the place ! 
While to the gentle greetings there 
We answer here with murmured prayer. 

What to shut eyes hath God revealed ? 
What hear the ears that death hath sealed '^ 
What undreamed beauty, passing show. 
Requites the loss of all we know ? 

O silent land, to which we move. 
Enough, if there alone be love ! 
And mortal need can ne'er outgrow 
What it is waiting to bestow ! 



O pure soul ! from that far-off shore 
Float some sweet song the waters o'er; 
Our faith confirm, our fears dispel, 
With the dear voice we loved so well ! 

/. G. Whittier, 



il^inisterins Angels. 

Brother, the angels say, 

Peace to thy heart ! 
We, too, O brother, have 

Been as thou art, — 
Hope-lifted, doubt-depressed, 

Seeing in part ; 
Tried, troubled, tempted, 

Sustained, as thou art. 

Brother, they softly say, 

Be our thoughts one ; 
Bend thou with us and pray, 
"Thy will be done ! " 
Our God is thy God; 

He willeth the best ; 
Trust him as we trusted ; 

Rest as we rest ! 

Ye, too, they gently say, 

Shall angels be ; 
Ye, too, O brothers, 

From earth shall be free : 
Yet in earth's loved ones 

Ye still shall have part, 
Bearing God's strength and love 

To the torn heart. 



Thus when the spirit, tried, 

Tempted, and worn, 
Finding no earthly aid, 

Heavenward doth turn, 
Come these sweet angel-tones, 

Falling like balm. 
And on the troubled heart 

Steals a deep calm. 

Hymns of the Spirit. 

**Kot as ^ 'rnwxy 

Blindfolded and alone I stand 
With unknown thresholds on each hand; 
The darkness deepens as I grope, 
Afraid to fear, afraid to hope ; 
Yet this one thing I learn to know 
Each day more surely as I go. 
That doors are opened, ways are made, 
Burdens are lifted, or are laid. 
By some great law, unseen and still, 
Unfathomed purpose to fulfil, 
" Not as I will." 

Blindfolded and alone I wait. 
Loss seems too bitter, gain too late ; 
Too heavy burdens in the load. 
And too few helpers on the road; 
And joy is weak and grief is strong, 
And years and days so long, so long : 
Yet this one thing I learn to know 
Each day more surely as I go, 
That I am glad the good and ill 
By changeless law is ordered still, 
" Not as I will." 

" Not as I will : " the sound grows sweet 

Each time my lips the words repeat ; 

" Not as I will : " the darkness feels 

More safe than light, when this thought steals 


Like whispered voice to calm and bless 
All unrest and all loneliness ; 
" Not as I will : " because the one 
Who loved us first and best, has gone 
Before us on the road, and still 
For us will all his love fulfil, 
" Not as we will." 

3liCe*s ^uestion» antr JFaitt)'s ^nstoer. 

Drifting away like mote on the stream ; 
To-day's disappointment, yesterday's dream ; 
Ever resolving — never to mend; 
Such is our progress ; where is the end ? 

Whirling away like leaf in the wind ; 
Points of attachment left daily behind ; 
Fixed to no principle, fast to no friend ; 
Such our fi.delity ; where is the end ? 

Floating away like cloud on the hill ; 
Pendulous, tremulous, migrating still ; 
Where to repose ourselves ? whither to tend ? 
Such our consistency ; where is the end ? 

Crystal the pavement under the stream ; 

Firm the reality under the dream ; 

We may not feel it, still we may mend ; 

How we have, conquered not known till the end. 

Bright leaves may scatter, sports of the wind ; 
But stands to the winter the great tree behind ; 
Frost shall not wither it, storms cannot bend ; 
Roots firmly clasping the rock at the end. 

Calm is the firmament over the cloud ; 

Clear shine the stars through the rifts of the shroud ; 

There our repose shall be, thither we tend ; 

Spite of our waverings approved at the end. 

Henry A If or d. 


^uiet from ^otr. 

Quiet from God ! how beautiful to keep 
This treasure, the All-merciful hath given ; 

To feel, when we awake and when we sleep, 
Its incense round us like a breath from heaven ! 

Who shall make trouble ? Not the evil minds 
Which like a shadow o'er creation lower; 

The soul which peace hath thus attuned finds 

How strong within doth reign the Calmer's power. 

What shall make trouble ? Not the holy thought 

Of the departed ; that will be a part 
Of those undying things his peace hath wrought 

Into a world of beauty in the heart. 

What shall make trouble ? Not slow wasting pain, 
Not the impending, certain stroke of death ; 

These do but wear away, then snap the chain 
Which bound the spirit down to things beneath. 

Sarah J. Williams. 


Dust unto dust, the heart makes cry ; 

Ashes to ashes doth reply. 

Shall I see God when I shall die ? 

My hands are strong, the Lord God says, 
My arms are wide, in many ways 
My love draws on the better days. 

Not in hard earth thou leav'st thine own, 
Not in cold ground the life is thrown. 
Where I am, none can be alone. 


Wherefore, O heart, no longer say 
Dust unto dust our own we lay, 
Ashes to ashes leave to-day. 

But with a faith set heavenward 
Say, Life to life we have restored, 
Spirit to spirit, God to God. 

John Tunis, 


Sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned, 

And sun and stars for evermore have set, 
The things which our weak judgment here have spurned, 

The things o'er which we grieved with lashes wet. 
Will flash before us, out of life's dark night. 

As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue ; 
And we shall see how all God's plans were right, 

And how what seemed reproof was love most true. 

And we shall see how, while we frown and sigh, 

God's plans go on as best for you and me ; 
How, when we called, he heeded not our cry, 

Because his wisdom to the end could see. 
And e'en as prudent parents disallow 

Too much of sweet to craving babyhood. 
So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now 

Life's sweetest things, because it seemeth good. 

And if, sometimes, commingled with life's wine. 

We find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink, 
Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine 

Pours out this potion for our lips to drink. 
And if some friend we love is lying low, 

Where human kisses cannot reach his face. 
Oh, do not blame the loving Father so. 

But wear your sorrow with obedient grace ! 


And you will shortly know that lengthened breath 

Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friends, 
And that, sometimes, the sable pall of death 

Conceals the fairest boon his love can send. 
If we could push ajar the gates of life. 

And stand within, and all God's workings see, 
We could interpret all this doubt and strife, 

And for each mystery could find a key I 

But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart ! 

God's plans, like lilies, pure and white unfold; 
We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart. 

Time will reveal the chalices of gold. 
And if, through patient toil, we reach the land 

Where tired feet, with sandals loosed, may rest. 
When we shall clearly know and understand, 

I think that we w511 say, " God knew the best ! '' 

A fay Riley Smith, 

Yet a 3Little 51J{)iTe. 

Oh ! for the peace which floweth as a river, * 

Making life's desert places bloom and smile. 

Oh ! for a faith to grasp heaven's bright forever 
Amid the shadows of earth's *' little while." 

A little while for patient vigil-keeping, 

To face the storm, to wrestle with the strong ; 

A little while to sow the seed with weeping, 

Then bind the sheaves, and sing the harvest-song. 

A little while midst shadow and illusion. 

To strive, by faith, love's mysteries to spell ; 

Then read each dark enigma's bright solution, 

Then hail sight's verdict, " He doth all things well ! ** 

And he who is himself the Gift and Giver, 

The future glory and the present smile. 
With the bright promise of the glad " forever " 

Will light the shadows of the " little while." 

Jane Crewdson, 



il^s lieatr. 

I cannot think of them as dead, 

Who walk with me no more ; 
Along the path of life I tread 

They have but gone before. 

The P'ather's house is mansioned fair 

Beyond my vision dim ; 
All souls are his, and here or there 

Are living unto him. 

And still their silent ministry 

Within my heart hath place, 
As when on earth they walked with me 

And met me face to face. 

Their lives are made forever mine ; 

What they to me have been 
Hath left henceforth its seal and sign 

Engraven deep within. 

Mine are they by an ownership 

Nor time nor death can free ; 
For God hath given to Love to keep 

Its own eternally. 

F. L. Hosmer. 

OTe Hngel of Jlatfence. 

To weary hearts, to mourning homes, 
God's meekest Angel gently comes : 
No power has he to banish pain. 
Or give us back our lost again ; 
And yet in tenderest love, our dear 
And heavenly Father sends him here. 


There's quiet in that Angel's glance ; 

There's rest in his still countenance ! 

He mocks no grief with idle cheer, 

Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear ; 

But ills and woes he may not cure 

He kindly trains us to endure. 

Angel of Patience ! sent to calm 
Our feverish brows witb cdoling balm ; 
To lay the storms of hope and fear, 
And reconcile life's smile and tear ; 
The throbs of wounded pride to still, 
And make our own our Father's will ! 

O thou who mournest on thy way, 
With longings for the close of day ! 
He walks with thee, that Angel kind. 
And gently whispers, " Be resigned : 
Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell 
The dear Lord ordereth all things well ! " 

John G. Whittier, 

SEntier tl)e €:ross. 

I cannot, cannot say, 
Out of my bruised and breaking heart, 
Storm-driven along a thorn-set way. 

While blood-drops start 
From every pore, as I drag on, 

" Thy will, O God, be done ! " 

I thought but yesterday, 
My will was one with God's dear will ; 
And that it would be sweet to say, 

Whatever ill 
My happy state should smile upon, 

" Thy will, my God, be done 1 " 


Now faint and sore afraid, 
Under my cross, heavy and rude. 
My idols in the ashes laid, 

Like ashes strewed, 
The holy words my pale lips shun, 
" O God, thy will be done ! " 

Pity my woes, O God ! 
And touch my will with thy w^arm breath ; 
Put in my trembling hand thy rod, 

That quickens death ; 
That my dead faith may feel thy sun, 
And say, " Thy will be done ! " 


W. C. Richards. 

In Memory of J. T, F. 

Until we meet again ! That is the meaning 
Of the familiar words, that men repeat 

At parting in the street. 
Ah yes, till then ! but when death intervening 
Rends us asunder, with what ceaseless pain 

We wait for the Again ! 

The friends who leave us do not feel the sorrow 
Of parting, as we feel it, who must stay 

Lamenting day by day. 
And knowing, when we wake upon the morrow, 
We shall not find in its accustomed place 

The one beloved face. 

It were a double grief, if the departed, 
Being released from earth, should still retain 

A sense of earthly pain * 
It were a double grief, if the true-hearted, 
Who loved us here, should on the farther shore 

Remember us no more. 


Believing, in the midst of our afflictions, 
That death is a beginning, not an end. 

We cry to them and send 
Farewells, that better might be called predictions, 
Being foreshadowings of the future, thrown 

Into the vast Unknown. 

Faith overleaps the confines of our reason, 
And if by faith, as in old times was said. 

Women received their dead 
Raised up to life, then only for a season 
Our partings are, nor shall we wait in vain 

Until we meet again ! 

Henry W. Longfellow, 


Those we love truly never die. 
Though year by year the sad memorial wreath, 
A ring and flowers, types of life and death. 

Are laid upon their graves. 

For death the pure life saves, 
And life all pure is love ; and love can reach 
From heaven to earth, and nobler lessons teach 

Than those by mortals read. 

Well blessed is he who has a dear one dead : 
A friend he has whose face will never change — 
A dear communion that will not grow strange ; 

The anchor of a love is death. 

The blessed sweetness of a loving breath 
Will reach our cheek all fresh through weary years. 
For her who died long since, ah ! waste not te?.rs. 

She's thine unto the end. 

John Boyle O^ Reilly^ 


il^ut oC t|)e Bej)tl)s. 

Thou that art strong to comfort, look on me ! 

I sit in darkness, and behold no light ! 
Over my heart the waves of agony 

Have gone and left me faint I Forbear to smite 
A bruised and broken reed ! Sustain, sustain, 

Divinest Comforter, to thee I fly ; 
Let me not fly in vain ! 

Support me with thy love, or else I die ! 
Whate'er I had was thine ! 

A God of mercy thou hast ever been; 
Assist me to resign, 

And if I murmur, count it not for sin ! 
How rich I was, I dare not — dare not think ; 
How poor I am, thou knowest, who can see 
Into my soul's unfathomed misery ; 

Forgive me if I shrink ! 
Forgive me if I shed these human tears, 
That it so hard appears 
To yield my will to thine, forgive, forgive ! 

Father, it is a bitter cup to drink ! 

My soul is strengthened ! it shall bear 

My lot, whatever it may be ; 
And from the depths of my despair 

I will look up and trust in thee ! 

Mary Howitt. 

Since thy Father's arm sustains thee, 

Peaceful be ; 
When a chastening hand restrains thee, 

It is he. 
Know his love in full completeness 
Fills the measure of thy weakness ; 
If he wound thy spirit sore. 

Trust him more. 


Without murmur, uncomplaining, 

In his hand 
Leave whatever things thou canst not 

Though the world thy folly spurneth, 
From thy faith in pity turneth, 
Peace thy inmost soul shall fill, 

Lying still. 

Fearest sometimes that thy Father 

Hath forgot ? 
When the clouds around thee gather 

Doubt him not. 
Always hath the daylight broken, — 
Always hath he comfort spoken, — 
Better hath he been for years 

Than thy fears. 

Therefore, whatsoe'er betideth, 

Night or day, — 
Know his love for thee provideth 

Good alway. 
Crown of sorrow gladly take, 
Grateful wear it for his sake ; 
Sweetly bending to his will, 

Lying still. 

To his own thy Father giveth 

Daily strength ; 
To each troubled soul that liveth, 

Peace at length. 
Weakest lambs have largest share 
Of this tender Shepherd's care ; 
Ask him not, then, " when ? " or " how } " 

Only bow. 

Charles R. Hagenbach, 



Oh yet we trust that somehow good 

Will be the final goal of ill, 

To pangs of nature, sins of will, 
Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; 

That nothing walks with aimless feet ; 

That not one life shall be destroyed, 

Or cast as rubbish to the void, 
When God hath made the pile complete } 

That not a worm is cloven in vain ; 

That not a moth with vain desire 

Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire, 
Or but subserves another's gain. 

Behold, we know not anything ; 

I can but trust that good shall fall 

At last — far off — at last, to all, 
And every winter change to spring. 

So runs my dream : but what am I ? 

An infant crying in the night ; 

An infant crying for the light ; 
And with no language but a cry. 

I falter where I firmly trod, 

And, falling with my weight of cares 

Upon the world's great altar-stairs 
That slope through darkness up to God, 

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, 

And gather dust and chaff, and call 

To what I feel is Lord of all. 
And faintly trust the larger hope. 

Alfred Tennyson, 


STJere is no IBeatt). 

There is no death ! The stars go down 

To rise upon some fairer shore ; 
And bright in Heaven's jewelled crown 

They shine for evermore. 

There is no death ! The dust we tread 
Shall change beneath the summer showers 

To golden grain, or mellow fruit, 
Or rainbow-tinted flowers. 

The granite rocks disorganize 

To feed the hungry moss they bear ; 
The forest leaves drink daily life 

From out the viewless air. 

There is no death ! An angel form 
Walks o'er the earth with silent tread ; 

He bears our best loved things away, 
And then we call them. " dead." 

He leaves our hearts all desolate, 

He plucks our fairest, sweetest flowers ; 

Transplanted into bliss, they now 
Adorn immortal bowers. 

Born unto that undying life, 

They leave us but to come again ; 
With joy we welcome them — the same, 

Except in sin and pain. 

And ever near us, though unseen. 

The dear immortal spirits tread ; 
For all the boundless universe 

Is life — there are no dead. 

E. Bulwer Lytton, 


We must not doubt, or fear, or dread, that love for life is only given, 
And that the calm and sainted dead will meet estranged and cold in 

heaven : — 
Oh, love were poor and vain indeed, based on so harsh and stern a 


Earth's lower things — her pride, her fame, her science, learning, wealth 
and power — 

Slow growths that through long ages came, or fruits of some convul- 
sive hour, 

Whose very memory must decay — Heaven is too pure for such as they. 

They are complete ; their work is done. So let them sleep in dream- 
less rest. 
Love's life is only here begun, nor is, nor can be, fully blest ; 
It has no room to spread its wings, amid this crowd of meaner things. 

Just for the very shadow thrown upon its sweetness here below, 
The cross that it must bear alone, and bloody baptism of woe. 
Crowned and completed through its pain, we know that it shall rise 

So if its flame burn pure and bright, here, where our air is dark and 

And nothing m this world of night lives with a living so intense ; 
When it shall reach its home at length — how bright its light! how 

strong its strength ! 

If in my heart I now could fear that, risen again, w^e should not know 
What was our Life of Life when here, — the hearts we loved so much 

below, — 
I would arise this very day, and cast so poor a thing away. 

But Love is no such soulless clod : living, perfected it shall rise 
Transfigured in the light of God, and giving glory to the skies : 
And that which makes this life so sweet shall render Heaven's joy 


Adelaide A. Procter, 


)5C 2Li)ou €:oult(st Unoto. 

I think if thou couldst know, 

O soul that will complain, 
What lies concealed below 

Our burden and our pain ; 
How just our anguish brings 
Nearer those longed-for things 
We seek for now in vain, — 
I think thou wouldst rejoice and not complain. 

I think if thou couldst see, 

With thy dim mortal sight, 
How meanings, dark to thee. 

Are shadows hiding light ; 
Truth's efforts crossed and vexed, 
Life's purpose all perplexed, — 
If thou couldst see them right, 
I think that they would seem all clear, and wise, and bright. 

And yet thou canst not know, 
And yet thou canst not see ; 
Wisdom and sight are slow 

In poor humanity. 
If thou couldst trust, poor soul, 
In Him who rules the whole. 
Thou wouldst find peace and rest : 
Wisdom and sight are well, but Trust is best. 

Adelaide A, Procter, 

5E^ope*s Song, 

I hear it singing, singing sweetly, 

Softly in an undertone, 
Singing as if God had taught it, 
" It is better farther on ! " 

Night and day it brings the message. 

Sings it while I sit alone ; 
Sings so that the heart may hear it, 
" It is better farther on ! " 


Sits upon the grave and sings it, 

Sings it when the heart would groan, 
Sings it when the shadows darken, 
" It is better farther on." 

Farther on ? Oh ! how much farther ? 

Count the mile-stones one by one. 
No ! no counting — only trusting 
" It is better farther on ! '' 


i^taajer tor Streufltf). 

Father, before thy footstool kneeling, 

Once more my heart goes up to thee. 
For aid, for strength to thee appealing. 

Thou who alone canst succor me. 

Hear me ! for heart and flesh are failing. 

My spirit yielding in the strife ; 
And anguish, wild as unavailing, 

Sweeps in a flood across my life. 

Help me to stem the tide of sorrow ; 

Help me to bear thy chastening rod ; 
Give me endurance ; let me borrow 

Strength from thy promise, O my God ! 

Not mine the grief which words may lighten ; 

Not mine the tears of common woe : 
The pang with which my heart-strings tighten, 

Only the All-seeing One may know. 

And oh ! in my exceeding weakness. 

Make thy strength perfect ; thou art strong : 

Aid me to do thy will with meekness, — 
Thou, to whom all my powers belong. 

Oh ! let me feel that thou art near me ; 

Close to thy side, I shall not fear : 
Hear me, O Strength of Israel, hear me ! 

Sustain and aid ! in mercy hear ! 



TXTo Mote Sea. 

Life of our life, and Light of all our seeing, 
How shall we rest on any hope but thee ? 

What time our souls, to thee for refuge fleeing, 
Long for the home where there is no more sea ? 

For still this sea of life, with endless wailing. 
Dashes above our heads its blinding spray. 

And vanquished hearts, sick with remorse and failing, 
Moan like the waves at set of autumn day. 

And ever round us swells the insatiate ocean 
Of sin and doubt that lures us to our grave ; 

When its wild billows, with their mad commotion, 
AV^ould sweep us down — then only thou canst save. 

And deep and dark the fearful gloom unlighted 

Of that untried and all-surrounding sea. 
On whose bleak shore arriving — lone — benighted, 

We fall and lose ourselves at last — in thee. 

Yea ! in thy life our little lives are ended. 
Into thy depths our trembling spirits fall ; 

In thee enfolded, gathered, comprehended. 

As holds the sea her waves — thou hold'st us all ! 

£h'za Scudder, 

2r!)e Internal ^ootiness. 

Within the maddening maze of things, 
And tossed by storm and flood. 

To one fixed stake my spirit clings : 
I know that God is good. 

I long for household voices gone, 
For vanished smiles I long ; 

But God hath led my dear ones on, 
And he can do no wrong. 


I know not what the future hath 

Of marvel or surprise, 
Assured alone that life and death 

His mercy underlies. 

And if my heart and flesh are weak 

To bear an untried pain, 
The bruised reed he will not break, 

But strengthen and sustain. 

And so beside the silent sea 

I wait the muffled oar ; 
No harm from him can come to me 

On ocean or on shore. 

I know not w^here his islands lift 

Their fronded palms in air ; 
I only know I cannot drift 

Beyond his love and care. 

John G. Whit tier. 

2Slessetr are W^t^ t])at J^ourn. 

Oh, deem not they are blessed alone 
Whose lives a peaceful tenor keep ! 

The Power who pities man, hath shown 
A blessing for the eyes that weep. 

The light of smiles shall fill again 
The lids that overflow with tears ; 

And weary hours of woe and pain 
Are promises of happier years. 

There is a day of sunny rest 

For every dark and troubled night ; 

And grief may bide an evening guest. 
But joy shall come with early light. 


And thou who, o'er thy friend's low bier, 
Dost shed the bitter drops like rain, 

Hope that a brighter, happier sphere 
Will give him to thy arms again. 

Nor let the good man's trust depart, 
Though life its common gifts deny, — 

Though with a pierced and bleeding heart, 
And spurned of men, he goes to die. 

For God hath marked each sorrowing day 

And numbered every secret tear. 
And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay 

For all his children suffer here. 

Willia77i C. Bryant, 


I will not think the last farewell we hear. 

Is more than brief " good-bye " that a friend saith, 

Turning toward home, that to our home lies near ; 
I will not think so harshly of kind death. 

I will not think the last looks of dear eyes, 
Fade with the light that fades of our dim air ; 

But that the apparent glories of the skies 

Weigh down their lids with beams too bright to bear. 

Our dead have left us for no dark, strange lands, 
Unwelcomed there, and with no friends to meet ; 

But ] ands of angels hold the trembling hands. 
And hands of angels guide the faltering feet. 

I will not think the soul gropes dumb and blind, 

A brief space through our world, death-doomed from birth ; 

I will not think that Love shall ever find 
A fairer heaven than he made of earth. 

Fakenham Beatty. 


©^ootr^^lSse, till iHotning. 

" Good-bye, till morning come again ! " 
We part, but not with aught of pain, 
The night is short, and hope is sweet. 
It fills our hearts and wings our feet ; 

And so we sing the glad refrain, 

" Good-bye, till morning come again ! " 

" Good-bye, till morning come again ! " 
The shade of death brings thought of pain, 
But could we know how short the night 
That falls and hides them from our sight, 

Our hearts would sing the glad refrain, 

" Good-bye, till morning come again ! '* 

M, G, T, 

i^rom ** 2rf)e ISjrcursion." 

One adequate support 
For the calamities of mortal life 
Exists, one only; — an assured belief 
That the procession of our fate, howe'er 
Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being 
Of infinite benevolence and power, 
Whose everlasting purposes embrace 
All accidents, converting them to Good. 

The darts of anguish fix not where the seat 
Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified 
By acquiescence in the Will Supreme 
For time and for eternity ; by faith. 
Faith absolute in God, including hope ; 
And the defence that lies in boundless love 
Of his perfections ; with habitual dread 
Of aught unworthily conceived, endured 
Impatiently, ill done or left undone, 
To the dishonor of his holy Name. 
Soul of our souls, and safeguard of the world, 
Sustain, thou only canst, the sick of heart ! 

William Wordsworth, 


Uenturi <Salutamus. 

Our beloved have departed, 
While we tarry, heavy-hearted, 

In the dreary, empty house : 
They have ended life's brief story, 
They have reached the home of glory, 

Over death victorious. 

Hush that sobbing, weep more lightly ; 
On we travel, daily, nightly, 

To the rest that they have found. 
Are we not upon the river, 
Sailing fast, to meet forever 

On more holy, happy ground? 

On we haste, to home invited, 
There with friends to be united 

In a surer bond than here ; 
Meeting soon, and met forever ! 
Glorious Hope, forsake us never. 

For thy glimmering light is dear ! 

Ah ! the way is shining clearer, 
As we journey ever nearer 

To the everlasting home ; 
Comrades, who await our landing. 
Friends, who round the throne are standing, 
We salute you, and we come ! 

FroTn the German. 

{LittelPs " Living Age^) 

All as God wills, who wisely heeds 

To give or to withhold, 
And knoweth more of all my needs 

Than all my prayers have told ! 


Enough that blessings undeserved 

Have marked my erring track ; — 
That wheresoe'er my feet have swerved. 

His chastening turned me back ; — - 

That more and more a Providence 

Of love is understood, 
Making the springs of time and sense 

Sweet with eternal good ; — 

That death seems but a covered way 

Which opens into light, 
Wherein no blinded child can stray 

Beyond the Father's sight ; — 

That care and trial seem at last, 

Through Memory's sunset air, 
Like mountain ranges overpast, 

In purple distance fair ; — 

That all the jarring notes of life 

Seem blending in a psalm, 
And all the angles of its strife 

Slow rounding into calm. 

And so the shadows fall apart. 

And so the west winds play ; 
And all the windows of my heart 

I open to the day. 

/. G, Whittier. 

IBeatl) of a Sfster. 

I will not mock thee with the poor world's common 

And heartless phrase, 
Nor wrong the memory of a sainted woman 

With idle praise. 

With silence only as their benediction, 

God's angels come 
Where, in the shadow of a great affliction, 

The soul sits dumb ! 


Yet would I say what thy own heart approveth ; 

Our Father's will, 
Calling to him the dear one whom he loveth, 

Is mercy still. 

God calls our loved ones, but we lose not wholly 

What he hath given ; 
They live on earth, in thought and deed, as truly 

As in his heaven. 

Up, then, my brother ! Lo, the fields of harvest 

Lie white in view ! 
She lives and loves thee, and the God thou servest 

To both is true. 

/. G, Whittier. 


jFrom tfie **lBle22 on tte Beati) of IBv. €t)annin2.'' 

I do not come to weep above thy pall, 

And mourn the dying out of noble powers ; 

The poet's clearer eye should see, in all 

Earth's seeming woe, the seed of Heaven's flowers. 

Truth needs no champions : in the infinite deep 

Of everlasting Soul her strength abides ; 
From Nature's heart her mighty pulses leap, 

Through Nature's veins her strength, undying, tides. 

Peace is more strong than war, and gentleness. 

Where force were vain, makes conquest o'er the wave ; 

And love lives on and hath a power to bless, 
When they who loved are hidden in the grave. 

No power can die that ever wrought for Truth; 

Thereby a law of Nature it became. 
And lives unwithered in its sinewy youth, 

When he who called it forth is but a name. 

Therefore I cannot think thee wholly gone ; 

The better part of thee is with us still ; 
The soul its hampering clay aside hath thrown, 

And only freer wrestles with the 111, 

Thou livest in the life of all good things ; 

What words thou spak'st for Freedom shall not die ; 
Thou sleepest not, for now thy Love hath wings 

To soar where hence thy Hope could hardlv f^v. 




And often, from that other world, on this 

Some gleams from great souls gone before may shine, 
To shed on struggling hearts a clearer bliss, 

And clothe the Right with lustre more divine. 

Thou art not idle : in thy higher sphere 

Thy spirit bends itself to loving tasks, 
And strength to perfect what it dreamed of here 

Is all the crown and glory that it asks. 

For sure, in Heaven's wide chambers, there is room 

For love and pity, and for helpful deeds ; 
Else were our summons thither but a doom 

To life more vain than this in clayey weeds. 

Farewell ! good man, good angel now ! this hand 
Soon, like thine own, shall lose its cunning too ; 

Soon shall this soul, like thine, bewildered stand, 
Then leap to thread the free, unfathomed blue. 

This laurel-leaf I cast upon thy bier; 

Let worthier hands than these thy wreath entwine ; 
Upon thy hearse I shed no useless tear, — 

For us weep rather thou in calm divine ! 

/. R. Lowell. 

^*ell Bone. 

Servant of God, well done ! They serve God well, 
Who serve his creatures ; when the funeral bell 
Tolls for the dead, there 's nothing left of all 
That decks the scutcheon and the velvet pall 
Save this. The coronet is empty show. 
The strength and loveliness are hid below : 
The shifting wealth to others hath accrued : 
And learning cheers not the grave's solitude : 
What's done, is what remains ! Ah, blessed they 
AVho leave completed tasks of love to stay 
And answer mutely for them, being dead : 
Life was not purposeless, though Life be fled. 
Ca7'oline N'ortoji. 

TJie Lady of La Garaye. 


F, D. B, 

To pass through life beloved as few are loved, 
To prove the joys of earth as few have proved, 
And still to keep thy soul's white robe unstained, 
Such is the victory which thou hast gained. 

How few like thine, the pilgrim feet have come 
Unworn, unwounded, to the heavenly home ! 
Yet He who guides in sorrow's sorest need, 
As well by pleasant paths his own may lead. 

And love, that guides where wintry tempests beat, 
To thee was shelter from the summer heat. 
What need for grief to blight, or ills annoy, 
The heart whose God was her exceeding joy ? 

And so that radiant path, all sweet and pure, 
Found fitting close in perfect peace secure ; 
No haste to go, no anxious wish to stay. 
No childish terror of the untried way- 

But wrapped in trance of holy thought and prayer, 
Yet full of human tenderness and care, 
Undimmed its lustre and unchilled its love. 
Thy spirit passed to cloudless light above. 

In the far North, where, over frosts and gloom. 
The midnight skies with rosy brightness bloom. 
There comes in all the year one day complete, 
Wherein the sunset and the sunrise meet. 

So, in the region of thy fearless faith. 
No hour of darkness marked the approach of death ; 
But, ere the evening splendor was withdrawn. 
Fair flashed the light along the hills of dawn. 

Eliza Scudder, 


STSe JFrfenti's 3Sutial. 

Her still and quiet life flowed on 

As meadow streamlets flow, 
Where fresher green reveals alone 

The noiseless ways they go. 

Her path shall brighten more and more 

Unto the perfect day ; 
She cannot fail of peace who bore 

Such peace with her away. 

O sweet, calm face, that seemed to wear 

The look of sins forgiven ! 
O voice of prayer, that seemed to bear 

Our own needs up to heaven ! 

How reverent in our midst she stood, 

Or knelt in grateful praise ! 
What grace of Christian womanhood 

Was in her household ways ! 

For still her holy living meant 

No duty left undone ; 
The heavenly and the human blent 

Their kindred loves in one. 

She kept her line of rectitude 

With love's unconscious ease : 
Her kindly instincts understood 

All gentle courtesies. 

The dear Lord's best interpreters 

Are humble human souls ; 
The Gospel of a life like hers 

Is more than books or scrolls. 

From scheme and creed the light goes out, 

The saintly fact survives ; 
The blessed Master none can doubt 

Revealed in holy lives. 

/. G. Whitiier, 


Eo 3^ <S. 

God gives us love. Something to love 
He lends us ; but, when love is grown 

To ripeness, that on which it throve 
Falls off, and love is left alone. 

And though mine own eyes fill with dew, 

Drawn from the spirit through the brain, 
I will not even preach to you, 
" Weep, weeping dulls the inward pain." 

I will not say " God's ordinance 

Of death is blown in every wind ; " 
For that is not a common chance 

That takes away a noble mind. 

Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace ; 

Sleep, holv spirit, blessed soul. 
While the stars burn, the moons increase, 

And the great ages onward roll. 

Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet, 
Nothing comes to thee new or strange ; 

Sleep full of rest from head to feet ; 
Lie still, dry dust, secure of change. 

Alfred Tennyson, 

(&, 3L, S. 

He has done the work of a true man, — 
Crown him, honor him, love him. 

Weep over him, tears of woman, 
Stoop, manliest brows, above him ! 

For the warmest of hearts is frozen, 
The freest of hands is still ; 

And the gap in our picked and chosen 
The long years may not fill. 


No duty could overtask him, 

No need his will outrun ; 
Or ever our lips could ask him, 

His hands the work had done. 

He forgot his own soul for others, 

Himself to his neighbor lending ; 
He found the Lord in his suffering brothers, 

And not in the clouds descending. 

Ah, well ! — The world is discreet ; 

There are plenty to pause and wait ; 
But here was a man who set his feet 

Sometimes in advance of fate= 

Never rode to the wrong's redressing 

A worthier paladin ; 
Shall he not hear the blessing, 

*' Good and faithful, enter in ! " 

/. G. Whittier. 

Oh, thicker, deeper, darker growing, 

The solemn vista to the tomb 
Must know henceforth another shadow, 

And give another cypress room. 

To homely joys and loves and friendships 

Thy genial nature fondly clung ; 
And so the shadow on the dial 

Ran back and left thee always young. 

And who could blame the generous weakness, 

Which, only to thyself unjust, 
So overprized the worth of others, 

And dwarfed thy own with self-distrust ? 

All hearts grew warmer in the presence 

Of one who, seeking not his own. 
Gave freely for the love of giving. 

Nor reaped for self the harvest sown. 


Thy greeting smile was pledge and prelude 

Of generous deeds and kindly words ; 
In thy large heart were fair guest-chambers, 

Open to sunrise and the birds ! 

The task was thine to mould and fashion 

Life's plastic newness into grace ; 
To make the boyish heart heroic, 

And light with thought the maiden's face. 

O'er all the land in town and prairie, 

With bended heads of mourning, stand 
The living forms that owe their beauty 

And fitness to thy shaping hand. 

O friend ! if thought and sense avail not 

To know thee henceforth as thou art, 
That all is well with thee forever 

I trust the instincts of my heart. 

Thine be the quiet habitations. 

Thine the green pastures, blossom-sown, 
And smiles of saintly recognition 

As sweet and tender as thy own. 

Thou com'st not from the hush and shadow 

To meet us, but to thee we come ; 
With thee we never can be strangers. 

And where thou art must still be home. 

/. G. Whittier, 

3E, S. ^. 

•At eve there shall be light," the promise runs 
In the dear volume that he loved so well ; 
Ay, and for him the promise was fulfilled. 
When rang for him the solemn vesper-bell. 

His was no day of sweet, unsullied blue. 

And bright, warm sunshine on the grass and flowers ; 

But many a cloud of loss and grief and pain 
Dropped its deep shadow on the fleeting hours. 


For still, though hours were his, serene and still, 
And radiant hours of steady glowing noon, 

That cloud of pain w^as ever near to touch 
With quivering sadness every brightest boon. 

And, as his afternoon drew^ on to eve 

And still he lingered in the whitened field, 

The reapers were so few, till night should fall 
Fain would his hand the heavy sickle wield, — 

Darker it grew and darker o'er the land. 

And he was forced to lay the sickle by; 
But did it brighten, then his hand was quick 

To seize once more its opportunity. 

So the day faded, and the evening came ; 

Then from the sky the clouds were furled away, 
And a great peace and beauty w^elcomed in 

The evening star with her benignant ray. 

And all the air was hushed and whispering. 
And all the sky was purely, softly bright ; 
And so the blessed promise was fulfilled; 
" At eve," it said, — " at eve there shall be light.'* 

But that fair evening did not end in night, 
With shadow^s deep, and darkness all forlorn, 

Just at its brightest he was snatched away 
Into the golden palaces of morn. 

And surely since the Master went that way. 
To welcome there earth's holiest and best, 

He has not welcomed one who loved him more 
Than he who leaned that evening on his breast. « 

J. W. Chadwick. 

Jiti ifEemorj of t!)e 3lalri) ^uflusta Stanleg. 

O blessed life of service and of love ! 

Heart wide as life, deep as life's deepest woe ; 
God's servants serve him day and night above, 

Thou servedst day and night, we thought, below. 


Hands full of blessings, lavished far and wide, 
Hands tender to bind up hearts wounded sore ; 

Stooping quite down earth's lowest needs beside, — 
Master^ like thee ! we thought, and said no more. 

We o'er all sorrow would have raised thee up, 

Crowned with life's choicest blossoms night and morn; 

God made thee drink of his beloved's cup. 

And crowned thee with the Master's crown of thorn. 

Looking from thee to him, once wounded sore, 

We learned a little more his face to see ; 
Then looking from the cross for us he bore, 

To thine, we almost understood for thee I 

Till now, again ! we gaze on thee above. 

Strong and unwearied, serving day and night; 
O blessed life of service and of love ! 

Master^ like thee^ and with thee in thy light ! 

Elizabeth Charles. 

€:i)arles Hotoe. 

" If ye love me," Jesus said. 
Just before his spirit sped, 
" Ye would all rejoice, for know 
To my Father I shall go." 

As we loved our brother here, 
We will check the starting tear. 
And rejoice that soul new-born 
To his Father now has gone. 

Thanks to God for life so pure. 
Strong to do, to bear, endure ; 
Thanks for faith that feared no cross, 
Thanks for hope that knew no loss. 

Thanks for love so deep and strong, 
Love of right and hate of wrong ; 
Love, unwelcome truth could tell 
Just because it loved so well. 


Love embracing in its span 
Truth and right, and God and man ; 
Love so loyal and so sweet 
It could every duty meet. 

Love that cast out every fear, 
As the parting hour drew near ; 
Love that clasped the Father's hand, 
Leading to the brighter land. 

Risen brother ! from above 
Let us all still feel thy love ; 
Earth was fairer for thy stay, 
Heaven is nearer us to-day. 

W. F. Tilden. 

iFrom **iausl)2 €:i)apel." 

O strong soul, by w'hat shore 
Tarriest thou now ? For that force, 
Surely, has not been left vain ! 
Somewhere, surely, afar. 
In the sounding labor-house vast 
Of being is practised that strength, 
Zealous, beneficent, firm ! 

Yes, in some far-shining sphere. 

Conscious or not of the past. 

Still thou performest the word 

Of the Spirit in whom thou dost live ■ 

Prompt, unwearied, as here ! 

Still thou upraisest with zeal 

The humble good from the ground, 

Sternly repressest the bad ! 

Still, like a trumpet, dost rouse 

Those who with half-open eyes 

Tread the border-land dim 

'Twixt vice and virtue ; reviv'st, 

Succourest ! — this w^as thy work. 

This was thy life upon earth. 


Servants of God ! — or sons 
Shall I not call you ? because 
Not as servants ye knew 
Your Father's innermost mind, 
His, who unwillingly sees 
One of his little ones lost — 
Yours is the praise, if mankind 
Hath not as yet in its march 
Fainted, and fallen, and died! 

See ! In the rocks of the world 

Marches the host of mankind, 

A feeble, wavering line. 

Where are they tending ? — A God 

Marshalled them, gave them their goal. — 

Ah, but the way is so long ! 

Then, in such hour of need 

Of your fainting, dispirited race. 

Ye, like angels appear, 

Radiant with ardor divine. 

Beacons of hope, ye appear ! 

Languor is not in your heart. 

Weakness is not in your word, 

Weariness not on your brow. 

Ye alight in our van ! at your voice, 

Panic, despair, flee away. 

Ye move through the ranks, recall 

The stragglers, refresh the outworn, 

Praise, re-inspire the brave. 

Order, courage, return ; 

Eyes rekindling, and prayers, 

Follow your steps as ye go. 

Ye fill up the gaps in our files. 

Strengthen the wavering line, 

Stablish, continue our march. 

On, to the bound of the waste, 

On, to the City of God. 

Matthew Arnold, 


2r!)e Sleep. 

^^ He giveth His beloved sleeps Ps. cxxvii : 2. 

Of all the thoughts of God that are 

Borne inward unto souls afar, 

Along the Psalmist's music deep, 
Now tell me if that any is, 
For gift or grace, surpassing this — 
** He giveth his beloved, sleep " ? 

What would we give to our beloved ? 
The hero's heart to be unmoved, 
The poet's star-tuned harp to sweep, 
The patriot's voice to teach and rouse, 
The monarch's crown to light the brows ? 
" He giveth his beloved, sleep." 

What do we give to our beloved ? 
A little faith all undisproved, 
A little dust to overweep. 
And bitter memories to make 
The whole earth blasted for our sake. 
" He giveth his beloved, sleep." 

" Sleep soft, beloved ! " we sometimes say, 
But have no tune to charm away 
Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep ; 
But never doleful dream again 
Shall break the happy slumber, when 
" He giveth his beloved, sleep." 


O earth, so full of dreary noises ! 
O men, with wailing in your voices ! 
O delved gold, the wailers heap ! 

O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall ! 

God strikes a silence through you all, 

And "giveth his beloved, sleep." 

His dews drop mutely on the hill, 
His cloud above it saileth still, 
Though on its slope men sow and reap. 

More softly than the dew is shed, 

Or cloud is floated overhead, 
" He giveth his beloved, sleep. '* 

For me, my heart that erst did go 
Most like a tired child at a show. 
That sees through tears the mummers leap, 

Would now its wearied vision close, 

Would childlike on his love repose. 

Who " giveth his beloved, sleep ! " 

And friends, dear friends, — when it shall be 
That this low breath is gone from me. 
And round my bier ye come to weep. 
Let one, most loving of you all, 
Say, " Not a tear must o'er her fall — 
" He giveth his beloved, sleep." 

E. B. Browning. 

Hpitapf) on an ©Itr l^aitr. 

Rest, gentle traveller, on life's toilsome way ; 
Pause here awhile ; yet o'er this lifeless clay 
No weeping, but a joyful tribute pay. 

No chosen spot of earth she called her own ; 
She reaped no harvest in her spring-time sown ; 
Yet always in her path some flowers were strown. 


No dear ones were her own peculiar care, 
So was her bounty free as heaven's air ; 
For every claim she had enough to spare. 

And loving more the heart to give than lend, 
Though oft deceived in many a trusty friend, 

She hoped, believed and trusted to the end. 

She had her joys : 'twas joy to live, to love. 
To labor in the world with God above. 
And tender hearts that ever near did move. 

She had her griefs : but why recount them here, — 
The heartsick loneliness, the onlooking fear, 
The days of desolation, dark and drear, 

Since every agony left peace behind. 

And healing came on every stormy wind. 

And with pure brightness every cloud was lined. 

And every loss sublimed some low desire, 
And every sorrow helped her to aspire, 
Till waiting angels bade her go up higher ! 


5:11 3l®arI)or. 

I think it is over, over — 

I think it is over at last: 
Voices of foeman and lover. 

The sweet and the bitter have passed : 
Life, like a tempest of ocean, 

Hath outblown its ultimate blast. 

There 's but a faint sobbing seaward, 
While the calm of the tide deepens leeward. 
And behold \ like the welcoming quiver 
Of heart-pulses throbbed through the river, 
Those lights in the Harbor at last — 
The heavenlv Harbor at last ! 


I feel it is over, over — 

The winds and the waters surcease : 
How few were the days of the Rover 
That smiled in the beauty of peace ! 
And distant and dim was the omen 
That hinted redress or release. 

From the ravage of Life and its riot, 
What marvel I yearn for the quiet 
Which bides in the Harbor at last ? — 
For the lights with their welcoming quiver 
That throb through the sanctified river, 
Which girdles the Harbor at last — 
The heavenly Harbor at last ? 

I know it is over, over — 

I know it is over at last : 
Down sail ; the sheathed anchor uncover, 

For the stress of the voyage has passed : 
Life, like a tempest of ocean, 

Hath outblown its ultimate blast- 
There 's but a faint sobbing seaward. 
While the calm of the tide deepens leeward, 
And behold ! like the welcoming quiver 
Of heart-pulses throbbed through the river, 
Those lights in the Harbor at last! 
The heavenly Harbor at last ! 

Paul H. Hayne. 

^\xX of tt)e :St)atioto. 

Gentle friends who gather here, 
With no gloom surround this bier, 
Drop no unavailing tear. 

Bid this weary frame oppressed 

Welcome to its longed-for rest 

On the fair earth's sheltering breast. 

And the spirit, freed from clay, 
Give glad leave to soar away, 
Singing, to the eternal day. 


When this sentient life began, 
Love of nature, love of man, 
Through its kindling pulses ran ; 

Eagerly these eyes looked forth. 
Questioning the teeming earth 
For its stores of truth and worth ; 

Head and heart with schemes were rife, 
Longing for some noble strife, ' 
Planning for some perfect life. 

But the Father's love decreed 
Other work and other meed, 
And by ways unsought did lead ; 

Turned aside the out-stretched hand, 

Bade the feet inactive stand, 

Checked the task that thought had planned ; 

And on eyes that loved to gaze 
Upon light's intensest rays, 
Dropped a veil of gentlest haze. 

How the musing spirit burned ! 
How the wilful nature yearned. 
And its sacred limits spurned ! 

Known, O Father, unto thee 

All the long captivity 

Of the soul at last set free ; 

And how hard it was to see 
** Thy great harvests silently 

Whitening upon land and lea ; 

And to watch the reapers' throng. 
Filling all the vales with song, 
As they bore their sheaves along. 

And to thee, O pitying God, 
Known thy grace that overflowed 
All that still and sacred road. 


Where thy patience brought relief, 
Following in thy path of grief, 
Thou of suffering souls the chief ! 

Yet since thou hast stooped to say, 
*' Cast thy out-worn robe away, 
Come and rest with me to-day, — 

" Come to larger life and power, 

Come to truth's unfailing dower, 

Come to strength renewed each hour ; " — 

To the dear ones gathered here 
Make thy loving purpose clear, 
And thy light shine round this bier. 

Eliza Sciidder, 

3Pass ©ber to ^Tij^ Hest. 

From this bleak hill of storms. 
To yon warm, sunny heights. 
Where love forever shines. 

Pass over to thy rest. 

The rest of God ! 

From hunger and from thirst. 

From toil and weariness. 

From shadows and from dreams, 

Pass over to thy rest, 

The rest of God ! 

From weakness and from pain. 
From trembling and from strife. 
From watching and from fears, 

Pass over to thy rest, 

The rest of God ! 

From vani4;y and lies. 
From mockery and snares, 
From disappointed hopes. 

Pass over to thy rest. 

The rest of God ! 


From unrealities, 
From hollow scenes of change, 
From ache and emptiness, 
Pass over to thy rest, 
The rest of God ! 

From this unanchored world, 

Whose morrow none can tell, 

From all things restless here, 

Pass over to thy rest, 

The rest of God ! 

H. Bonar. 

^ 13risoner. 

If one had watched a prisoner many a year. 

Standing beside a barred window-pane, 

Fettered with heavy hand-cuffs and with chain. 

And gazing on the blue sky far and clear; 

And suddenly some morning we should hear 

The man had in the night contrived to gain 

His freedom and was safe, would that bring pain ? 

Ah ! would it not to dullest heart appear 

Good tidings ? Yesterday I looked on one 

Who lay as if asleep in perfect peace. 

His long imprisonment for life was done ; 

Eternity's great freedom his release 

Had brought, yet they who loved him called him dead. 

And wept, refusing to be comforted. 

H. H, 

2ri)e 33ortier=^3lantrs. 

Father, into thy loving hands 

My feeble spirit I commit. 
While wandering in these Border-Lands, 

Until thy voice shall summon it. 

Father, I would not dare to choose 
A longer life, an earlier death; 

I know not what my soul might lose 
By shortened or protracted breath. 


These Border-Lands are calm and still, 

And solemn are their silent shades ; 
And my heart welcomes them, until 

The light of life's long evening fades. 

I hear them spoken of with dread, 

As fearful and unquiet places ; 
Shades, where the living and the dead 

Look sadly in each other's faces. 

But since thy hand hath led me here. 

And I have seen the Border-Land ; 
Seen the dark river flowing near, 

Stood on its brink, as now I stand ; 

There has been nothing to alarm 

My trembling soul ; how could I fear 
While thus encircled with thine arm ? 

I never felt thee half so near. 

What should appal me in a place 

That brings me hourly nearer thee ? 
When I may almost see thy face — 

Surely 'tis here my soul would be. 

Etcphemia Sax by. 

I lay me down to sleep, 

With little thought or care 
Whether my waking find 

Me here, or there. 

A bowing, burdened head, 

That only asks to rest, 
Unquestioning, upon 

A loving breast. 

My good right hand forgets 

Its cunning now ; 
To march the weary march 

I know not how. 


I am not eager, bold, 
Nor strong — all that is past; 

I am ready not to do 
At last, at last. 

My half day's work is done, 

And this is all my part ; 
I give a patient God 

My patient heart, 

And grasp his banner still. 

Though all its blue be dim ; 
These stripes, no less than stars. 

Lead after him. 



What did we ask with all our love for him, 

But just a breath of fuller life 

To ease the laboring lungs ? And God hath given him 

The gift of life itself, — full, everlasting life ! 

What did we pray for ? Rest even for one night. 

That he might rise with sleep's most golden dews. 

Refreshed to feel the morning in his soul ; 

And God hath given him his eternal rest ! 

We could not proffer freedom for one hour 

From that dread weight of weariness he bore, 

Struggling for years to shake death's shadow off ; 

And God hath made him free forevermore ! 

Ge7'ald Massey. 

ilecping antr 25Fafema 

Sleep, tired one, sleep ! 
Earth's wakefulness hath pain and sore unrest. 
And joys and sorrows battling in the breast, 
nd good that is but longing for the best. 

Sleep, tired one, sleep ! 


Sleep, lovely one, sleep ! 
Earth's beauty is a summer sunset's glow, 
Fading to darkness as the night shades grow ; 
Thy beauty was of climes we do not know. 

Sleep, lovely one, sleep ! 

Sleep, loving one, sleep ! 
Warm hearts and tender cluster, true and kind; 
Thy sorrowing ones they shall not fail to find ; 
Love well shall guard the love thou leav'st behind. 

Sleep, loving one, sleep I 

Sleep, beloved one, sleep ! 
Thy dear sweet memory in our hearts abides ; 
More dear and sweet as time more swiftly glides, 
Most dear, most sweet, for that to which it guides. 

Sleep, beloved one, sleep ! 

Wake, deathless one, wake ! 
The Life thou lovedst loves thee still for aye; 
It had no kinship with thy perishing clay, 
But crowns thy forehead with eternal Day: 
Thou waitest for thine own — lighting the way. 

Wake, deathless one, wake. 

F. E. Abbot {to E. C Potter,) 


He sees when their footsteps falter, when their hearts grow weak and 
faint ; 

He marks when their strength is failing, and listens to each com- 
plaint ; 

He bids them rest for a season, for the path-way has grown too steep ; 

And folded in fair green pastures, he giveth his loved ones sleep. 

Like weary and worn-out children, that sigh for the daylight's close, 
He know s that they oft are longing for home and its sweet repose ; 
So he calls them in from their labors ere the shadows around them 

And silently watching o'er them, he giveth his loved ones sleep. 


He giveth it, oh ! so gently, as a mother will hush to rest 
The babe that she softly pillows so tenderly on her breast ; 
Forgotten are now the trials and sorrows that made them weep, 
F'or with many a soothing promise, he giveth bis loved ones sleep. 

He giveth it ! Friends the dearest can never this boon bestow ; 
But he touches the drooping eyelids, and placid the features grow; 
Their foes may gather about them, and storms may round them sweep. 
But, guarding them safe from danger, he giveth his loved ones sleep. 

All dread of the distant future, all fears that oppressed to-day, 
Like mists that clear in the sunlight, have noiselessly passed away; 
Nor call, nor clamor can rouse them from slumbers so pure and deep. 
For only his voice can reach them, who giveth his loved ones sleep. 

Weep not that their toils are over, weep not that their race is run ; 
God grant we may rest as calmly when our work, like theirs, is done ! 
Till then we would yield with gladness our treasures to him to keep. 
And rejoice in the sweet assurance, he giveth his loved ones sleep. 


Where the mountains slope to the westward. 

And their purple chalices hold 
The new made w4ne of the sunset — 

Crimson and amber and gold — 

In this old, wide-opened doorw^ay. 

With the elm-boughs over head — 
The house all garnished behind her. 

And the plentiful table spread — 

She has stood to welcome our coming. 

Watching our upward climb. 
In the sweet June weather that brought us. 

Oh, many and many a time ! 

To-day, in the gentle splendor 

Of the early summer noon — 
Perfect in sunshine and fragrance 

Although it is hardly June — 


Again is the doorway opened, 

And the house is garnished and sweet; 
But she silently waits for our coming, 

And we enter with silent feet. 

A little within she is waiting, 

Not where she has met us before ; 
For over the pleasant threshold 

She is only to cross once more. 

The smile on her face is quiet, 

And a lily is on her breast ; 
Her hands are folded together 

And the word on her lips is " rest." 

And yet it looks like a welcome, 

For her work is compassed and done ; 
All things are seemly and ready, 

And her summer is just begun. 

It is we who may not cross over : 

Only with song and prayer, 
A little way into the glory, 

We may reach as we leave her there. 

But we cannot think of her idle ; 

She must be a home-maker still ; 
God giveth that work to the angels 

Who fittest the task fulfil ; 

And somewhere, yet, in the hilltops 

Of the country that hath no pain, 
She wiU watch in her beautiful doorway, 

To bid us a welcome again. 

A. D, T. Whitney, 

^Titeti ©ut. 

He does well who does his best; 
Is he weary ? let him rest. 
Brothers ! I have done my best, 
I am weary — let me rest. 


After toiling oft in vain, 
Baffled, yet to struggle fain, 
After toiling long to gain 
Little good with weary pain. 
Let me rest. But lay me low 
Where the hedge-side roses blow, 
Where the little daisies grow, 
Where the winds a-maying go, 
Where the foot-path rustics plod, 
Where the breeze-bowed poplars nod. 
Where the old woods worship God, 
Where his pencil paints the sod, 
Where the wedded throstle sings. 
Where the young bird tries his wings, 
Where at times the tempests roar. 
Shaking distant sea and shore. 
To be heard by me no more ! 
There beneath the breezy west. 
Tired and thankful, let me rest 
Like a child that sleepeth best 
On its mother's gentle breast. 



Dead ! Do you say that he is dead ? 

Take back the word, it is not true ! 
An empty cage, you might have said. 

Has lost the singer that we knew — 
The song rose level with the stars, 
That charmed us even in prison bars. 

But dead 'i There can be no such word 
For that which was serenely bright. 

Made in the image of the Lord, 

An effluence from the central light. 

An inbreathed essence from on high, 

A heaven-lit spark ! that could not die. 

Not dead — but free — he soars above 
The limit of our lesser scope. 


And we, because we shared his love, 

May cherish the uplifting hope 
That life to us is more, by just 
His altitude above our dust. 

More by the power he has attained 

To minister as angels may; 
More by the knowledge he has gained 

Of love's supremest, patient way ; 
Of blessing through the cloud or sun, 
So one all-perfect Will be done. 

And he (the thought is radiant) he 

This very moment may be near, 
With solace meted soothingly 

To feed a hope or hush a fear : 
So true it is, divinest things 
Come borne to us on hidden wings. 

So well we knew our Father's care 

Hovers about us, night and day, 
So sweet it is to think the air 

Is moved in a mysterious way 
By breath of one beloved on earth 
Grown lovelier by celestial birth. 

Then say not he is of the dead, 

'Tis only we in cerements dim. 
Who fail of life around, o'erhead ; 

But say it nevermore of him 
Whom death to livelier joys has called. 
Who lives among us disenthralled. 

Mary B. Dodge, 

2r|)e €^onqueror*s CKrabe. 

Within this lowly grave a conqueror lies. 
And yet the monument proclaims it not. 
A simple name alone. 
To the great world unknown. 
Is graven here, and wild-flowers rising round, 
Meek meadow-sweet, and violets of the ground, 
Lean lovingly against the humble stone. 


Here in the quiet earth, they laid apart 

No man of iron mould and bloody hands, 
But one of tender spirit and delicate frame ; 
Gentlest in mien and mind 
Of gentle womankind, 
Timidly shrinking from the breath of blame : 
One in whose eyes the smile of kindness made 
Its haunt, like flowers by sunny brooks in May ; 

Yet at the thought of others' pain a shade 
Of sweeter sadness chased the smile away. 

Nor deem that when the hand that moulders here 
Was raised in menace, realms were chilled with fear. 
Not thus were waged the mighty wars that gave 
The victory to her who fills this grave : 

Alone her task was wrought, 

Alone the battle fought ; 
Through that long strife her constant hope was staid 
On God alone, nor looked for other aid. 

She met the hosts of Sorrow with a look 

That altered not beneath the frown they wore, 
And soon the lowering brood were tamed, and took, 

Meekly, her gentle rule and frowned no more. 
Her soft hand put aside the assaults of wrath, 
And calmly broke in twain 
The fiery shafts of pain. 
And rent the nets of passion from her path. 

By that victorious hand dispair was slain ; 
With love she vanquished hate and overcame 

Evil with good in her great Master's name. 

O gentle sleeper, from thy grave I go 

Consoled, though sad, in hope and yet in fear. 

Brief is the time, I know. 

The warfare scarce begun ; 

Yet all may win the triumphs thou hast won. 

Still flows the fount whose waters strengthened thee; 

The victors' names are yet too few to fill 

Heaven's mighty roll ; the glorious armory, 

That ministered to thee, is open still. 

William C. Bryant. 


Sotofng fix STears. 

Straight and still the baby lies, 
No more smiling in his eyes, 
Neither tears nor wailing cries. 

Smiles and tears alike are done ; 
He has need of neither one — 
Only, I must weep alone. 

Tiny fingers, all too slight. 
Hold within their grasping tight, 
Waxen berries scarce more white. 

Nights and days of weary pain 
I have held them close — in vain ; 
Now T never shall again. 

Crossed upon a silent breast, 
By no suffering distressed, 
Here they lie in marble rest* 

They shall ne'er unfolded be, 
Never more in agony 
Cling so pleadingly to me. 

Yearning sore, I only know 
I am very full of woe — 
And I want my baby so ! 

Weary heart, that thou should'st prove 

So unworthy of the love 

Which thy darling doth remove ! 



Blinded eyes, that cannot see 

Past the present misery, 

Joy and comfort full and free ! 

my Father ! loving Lord ! 
Give me shame at my own word, 
Strength and patience me afford. 

1 will yield me to thy will ; 
Now thy purposes fulfil ; 
Only help me to be still. 

Though the mother-heart shall ache, 
I believe that, for his sake, 
It shall not entirely break. 

And I know I yet shall own, 
For my seeds of sorrow sown, 
Sheaves of joy around thy throne ! 


<Diir '^\)\\z Bobe. 

A white dove out of heaven flew, 
White as the whitest shape of grace 
That nestles in the soft embrace 

Of heaven when skies are summer blue ; 

It came with dew-drop purity. 

On glad wings of the morning light, 
And sank into our life, so white 

A vision ! sweetly, secretly ! 

Our dove had eyes of Baby blue, 
Soft as the speedwell's by the way, 
That looketh up as it would say, 
" Who kissed me while I slept, did you ? '* 

It seemed to come from far green fields 
To meet us over life's rough sea. 
With leaf of promise from the tree 

In which a dearer nest it builds. 


We held it as the leaves of life 

In hidden silent service fold 

About a Rose's heart of gold, 
So jealous of all outer strife ! 

One day she pined up in our face 

With a low cry we could not still, 

A moaning we could never heal, 
For sleep in some more quiet place. 

The look grew pleading in her eyes, 

And mournful as the lonesome light 

That in a window burns all night, 
Asking for stillness, when one dies. 

The hand of Death so coldly clings. 

So strongly draws the weak life-wave 

Into his dark, vast, silent cave ; 
Our little Dove must use its wings ! 

And so it sought the dearer nest ; 

A little way across the sea 

It kept us winged company. 
Then sank into its leafier rest. 

And left us day by day to feel 

A sadness in the sweetest words, 

A broken heartstring mid the chords, 
A tone more tremulous when we kneel. 

The stars that shone in her dear eyes 

May be a little while withdrawn 

To rise and lead the eternal dawn 
For us, up heaven in other skies. 

Our bird of God but soars and sings : 

Oft w^hen life*s heaving wave's at rest. 

She makes her mirror in my breast, 
I feel a winnowing of wings. 


Be good ! and you shall find her where 
No wind can shake the wee bird's nest ; 
No dreams can break the wee bird's rest 

No night, no pain, no parting there ! 

No echoes of old storms gone by ! 

Earth's sorrows slumber peacefully ; 

The wears^ are at rest, and He 
Shall wipe the tears from every eye. 

Gerald Massey, 

^n )-nfaut*s Beat!). 

A snow-flake falls, from out the air above, 
Upon some spot of ground where lingers yet 
The warmth of Summer's and of Autumn's sun ; 
And in a moment it has passed from sight. 
Most beautiful its crystal shape, a six- 
Rayed star, well fitted, if it could have stayed 
Until the sunlight fell thereon, to give 
A wealth of rainbow-hues, to gladden all 
Who saw its loveliness. Why came the flake 
Of snow, to go so soon, and leave no trace .'' 
A useless birth, a useless death, it seems. 

So seems — but when we trace the snow-flake back, 
And try to image all the wondrous store 
Of nature's skill in that one bit displayed. 
And know how all things joined together are, 
And work in harmony in this great world, 
So that from furthest parts the forces come, 
W^hich meet an instant, give the snow-flake birth, 
Then pass to other work — we know what seems 
A trifling thing, is far from being so ; 
In one grand thought the truth comes home to us, 
That, were it not the snow-flake came to earth, 
The world could not have been the same to-day. 


So, when from out the unknown space, there comes 
A little child to earth, which melts too soon 
From out the lap which gave it birth away, 
Before the sunlight love of home could give 
It consciousness of life — at once we ask, 
Why came the babe at all, so soon to go ? 
A useless birth, a useless death, it seems. 

So seems — but when we gather up the threads, 
The myriad threads, which bind its little life 
To lives of countless thousands gone before, 
To lives of countless thousands yet to come, — 
E'en as the rippling wave will reach at last 
From hither unto farther shore, and move, 
With felt or unfelt touch, all things that float 
Upon the surface of the watery deep, — 
We know, with faith beyond the power of sight, 
That not in vain the little one did come. 
Did stay awhile, then pass from sight away ; 
The world — our world at least — is not the same 
As though the babe had never come to us. 

Rowland Connor, 

^ il5al)5's Beatt). 

The little feet that never trod 

Earth, never strayed in field or street, 
What hand leads upward back to God 
The little feet.? 

Their pilgrimage's period 

A few swift moons have seen complete 
Since mother's hands first clasped and shod 
The little feet. 

The little hands that never sought 

Earth's prizes, worthless all as sands, 
What gift has death, God's servant, brought 
The little hands } 


Ere this, perchance, though love knows naught. 

Flowers fill them, grown in lovelier lands, 
Where hands of guiding angels caught 
The little hands. 

The little eyes that never knew 

Light other than of dawning skies, 
What new life now lights up anew 
The little eyes ? 

No storm, we know, may change the blue, 
Soft heaven that haply death descries ; 
No tears like these in ours, bedew 
The little eyes. 

A. C. Swinburne, 

W^z SrtDO irKjsteries.. 

[In the middle of the room, in its white coffin, lay the dead child, nephew cf 
the poet. Near it, in a great chair, sat Walt Whitman, surrounded by little 
ones, and holding a beautiful little girl in his lap. The child locked curiously 
at the spectacle of death, and then inquiringly into the old man's face. ''You 
don't know what it is, do you, my dear ? " said he. " We don't either." 

We know not what it is, dear, this sleep so deep and still ; 
The folded hands, the aw'ful calm, the cheek so pale and chill ; 
The lids that will not lift again, though we may call and call ; 
The strange, white solitude of peace that settles over all. 

We know not what it means, dear, this desolate heart-pain, — 
This dread to take our daily way, and walk in it again. 
We know not to what other sphere the loved who leave us go; 
Nor why we're left to wonder still ; nor why we do not know. 

But this we know : our loved and dead, if they should come this 

day, — 
Should come and ask us, " What is life } " not one of us could say. 
Life is a mystery as deep as ever death can be ; 
Yet, oh, how sweet it is to us, this life we live and see ! 


1 89 

Then might they say, — these vanished ones, — and blessed is the 

thought ! — 
" So death is sweet to us, beloved, though we may tell you naught : 
We may not tell it to the quick, — this mystery of death, — 
Ye may not tell us, if ye would, the mystery of breath." 

The child who enters life comes not with know^ledge or intent, 
So those who enter death must go as little children sent. 
Nothing is known. But I believe that God is overhead ; 
And as life is to the living, so death is to the dead. 

Mary Mapes Dodge. 

Children are God's apostles, day by day 

Sent forth to preach of love, and hope, and peace ; 

Nor hath thy babe his mission left undone. 

To me, at least, his going hence hath given 

Serener thoughts and nearer to the skies. 

And opened a new fountain in my heart 

For thee, my friend, and all : and oh, if Death 

More near approaches, meditates, and clasps, 

Even now some dearer, more reluctant hand, 

God, strengthen thou my faith, that I may see 

That 't is thine angel who, with loving haste, 

Unto the service of the inner shrine. 

Doth weaken thy beloved with a kiss. 

J. R, Lowell. On the Death of a FrieitcTs Child, 

Sl)e IS Not Beati, 33ut Sleepett). 

The baby wept ; 
The mother took it from the nurse's arms. 
And soothed its griefs, and stilled its vain alarms, 

And baby slept. 

Again it weeps, 
And God doth take it from the mother's arms. 
From present pain, and future unknown harms, 

And baby sleeps. 

Dr. I I. fids. 


Sfox a JJ'rientr in Sorroto. 

It was a tender hand that drew my boy away, 
Out of earth's shadow into heaven's day ; 
It was a loving voice that called him home, 
I catch its distant music, — " Darling — come ! " 

I know he lives with angels now, my boy. 
He sees their radiant faces, feels their joy; 
And heaven is dearer, nearer and so fair. 
Since this dear treasure of my heart is there. 

And yet my arms are empty — oh ! to hold 
His face against my bosom as of old, 
To clasp him close and feel the tender bliss 
Of his warm nestling touch, and baby kiss. 

Lord, help me if I sometimes wonder why 
The message came for him and passed me by, 
And marvel in my sad perplexity 
How he can be content away from me ! 

His little life was woven close with mine 

As vines in summer meet and intertwine. 

So when the summons came for us to part. 

The severing touch, though tender, broke my heart. 

Yet dearest Lord, I will not long repine. 
My bleeding heart shall find its balm in thine. 
In the dark shadows I will feel for thee 
And trust thee — as my baby trusted me. 


2rj)e a^eaper anti tlje JFlotoers. 

There is a Reaper whose name is Death, 

And, with his sickle keen. 
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath. 

And the flowers that grow between. 


" Shall I have naught that is fair ? " saith he ; 
" Have naught but the bearded grain ? 
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, 
I will give them all back again." 

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, 

He kissed their drooping leaves ; 
It was for the Lord of Paradise 

He bound them in his sheaves. 

" My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," 

The Reaper said, and smiled ; 
"Dear tokens of the earth are they. 

Where he was once a child." 

" They shall all bloom in fields of light, 
Transplanted by my care, 
And saints upon their garments white, 
These sacred blossoms wear." 

And the mother gave, in tears and pain, 

The flowers she most did love ; 
She knew she should find them all again 

In the fields of light above. 

Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 

The Reaper came that day ; 
'Twas an angel visited the green earth, 

And took the flowers away. 

H, W. Longfellow. 

CTe Alpine S|)eep. 

After our child's untroubled breath 

Up to the Father took its way, 
And on our home the shade of death * 

Like a long twilight haunting lay ; 

And friends came round, with us to weep 

Her little spirit's swift remove, — 
The story of the Alpine sheep 

Was told to us by one we love. 


They, in the valley's sheltering care, 
Soon crop the meadow's tender prime, 

And when the sod grows brown and bare 
The shepherd strives to make them climb 

To airy shelves of pastures green, 
That hang along the mountain's side, 

Where grass and flowers together lean, 

And down through mists the sunbeams slide. 

But nought can tempt the timid things 
The steep and rugged path to try, 

Though sweet the shepherd calls and sings, 
And seared below the pastures lie, — 

Till in his arms their lambs he takes, 

Along the dizzy verge to go, 
Then, heedless of the rifts and breaks, 

They follow on, o'er rock and snow. 

And in those pastures, lifted fair. 
More dewy soft than lowland mead, 

The shepherd drops his tender care. 
And sheep and lambs together feed. 

This parable, by nature breathed, 
Blew on me as the south wind free 

O'er frozen brooks, that flow unsheathed 

From icy thraldom to the sea. 


A blissful vision, through the night. 

Would all my happy senses sway, 

Of the good shepherd on the height, 

♦ Or climbing up the stony way. 

Holding our little lamb asleep. 
While, like the murmur of the sea, 

Sounded that voice along the deep. 
Saying " Arise, and follow me ! " 

Maria Lowell, 


3Little OTfltiten 

In the baron's hall of pride. 
By the poor man's dull fireside, 
'Mid the mighty, 'mid the mean. 
Little children maybe seen. 
Like the flowers that spring up fair. 
Bright and countless everywhere ! 

Blessings on them ! they in me 
Move a kindly sympathy. 
With their wishes, hopes and fears; 
With their laughter and their tears ; 
With their wonder so intense. 
And their small experience ! 

Little children, not alone 
On this wide earth are ye known ; 
'Mid its labors and its cares, 
'Mid its sufferings and its snares ; 
Free from sorrow, free from strife. 
In the world of love and life. 
Where no sinful thing hath trod — 
In the presence of your God, 
Spotless, blameless, glorified — 
Little children, ye abide. 

Mary Hvwitt, 

Buried to-day; 

When the soft green buds are bursting out, 

And up on the south-wind comes a shout 
Of village boys and girls at play 
In the mild spring evening gray. 

Taken away ; 

Sturdy of heart and stout of limb, 

From eyes that drew half their light from him, 

And put low, low underneath the clay, 

In his spring, — on this spring day. 


Passes away, 

All the pride of boy-life begun, 

All the hope of life yet to run j 
Who dares to question when One saith "Nay." 
Murmur not, — only pray 

Enters to-day. 

Another body in church-yard sod. 

Another soul on the life in God. 
His Christ was buried — and lives alway ; 
Trust him and go your way. 

D, M. Miilock-Craik, 

I had a little daughter, 

And she was given to me 
To lead me gently backward 

To the heavenly Father's knee. 
That I by the force of nature, 

Might, in some dim wise, divine 
The depth of his infinite patience 

To this wayward soul of mine. 

I know not how others saw her, 

But to me she was wholly fair, 
And the light of the heaven she came from 

Still lingered and gleamed in her hair ; 
For it was as wavy and golden. 

And as many changes took, 
As the shadows of sun-gilt ripples 

On the yellow bed of a brook. 

She had been with us scarce a twelvemonth, 

And it hardly seemed a day. 
When a troop of wandering angels 

Stole my little daughter away; 
Or perhaps those heavenly guardians 

But loosed the hampering strings, 
And when they had opened her cage door 

My little bird used her wings. 


But they left in her stead a changeling, 

A little angel child, 
That seems like a bud in full blossom, 

And smiles as she never smiled. 
This child is not mine as the first was, 

I cannot sing it to rest, 
I cannot lift it up fatherly 

And bliss it upon my breast ; 
Yet it lies in my little one's cradle, 

And sits in my little one's chair, 
And the light of the heaven she's gone to 

Transfigures its golden hair. 

/. R. Lowell, 

Is it so far from thee 
Thou canst no longer see, 
In the Chamber over the Gate, 
That old man desolate. 
Weeping and wailing sore 
For his son, who is no more? 
O Absalom, my son ! 

Is it so long ago 
That cry of human woe 
From the walled city came. 
Calling on his dear name, 
That it has died away 
In the distance of to-day? 
O Absalom, my son ! 

There is no far or near, 
There is neither there nor here, 
There is neither soon nor late. 
In that Chamber over the Gate, 
Nor any long ago 
To that cry of human woe, 
O Absalom, my son ! 


Somewhere at every hour 
The watchman on the tower 
Looks forth, and sees the fleet 
Approach of the hurrying feet 
Of messengers, that bear 
The tidings of despair. 
O Absalom, my son ! 

He goes forth from the door, 
Who shall return no more. 
With him our joy departs; 
The light goes out in our hearts ; 
In the Chamber over the Gate 
We sit disconsolate. 
O Absalom, my son ! 

That 't is a common grief 
Bringeth but slight relief ; 
Ours is the bitterest loss, 
Ours is the heaviest cross ; 
And forever the cry will be 
« Would God I had died for thee, 
O Absalom, my son ! " 

H. W. Longfellow, 

1^2 Qtxym, 

I cannot make him dead ! 

His fair sunshiny head 
Is ever bounding round my study chair ; 

Yet when my eyes, now dim 

With tears, I turn to him. 
The vision vanishes, — he is not there ! 

I walk my parlor floor. 

And, through the open door, 
I hear a footfall on the chamber stair ; 

I 'm stepping toward the hall 

To give the boy a call ; 
And then bethink me that — he is not there ! 


T know his face is hid 

Under the coffin lid, 
Closed are his eyes ; cold is his forehead fair ; 

My hand that marble felt ; 

O'er it in prayer I knelt ; 
Yet my heart whispers that — he is not there I 

Not there ! Where, then, is he ? 

The form I used to see 
Was but the raiment that he used to wear. 

The grave, that now doth press 

Upon that cast-off dress, 
Is but his wardrobe locked ; he is not there ! 

He lives ! — in all the past 

He lives; nor to the last, 
Of seeing him again will I despair ; 

In dreams I see him now ; 

And, on his angel brow, 
I see it written, " Thou shalt see me there l^^ 

Yes, we all live to God ! 

Father, thy chastening rod 
So help us, thine afflicted ones, to bear, 

That, in the spirit land. 

Meeting at thy right hand, 
'Twill be our heaven to find that — he is there. 

John Pierpont. 

^Je i^ornin2=sC!5^lor2> 

We wreathed about our darling's head 

The morning-glory bright ; 
Her little face looked out beneath 

So full of life and light, 
So lit, as with a sunrise, 

That we could only say, 
" She is the morning-glory true. 

And her poor types are they." 


So always from that happy time 

We called her by their name, 
And very fitting did it seem, — 

For, sure as morning came, 
Behind her cradle bars she smiled 

To catch the first faint ray, 
As from the trellis smiles the flower, 

And opens to the day. 

We used to think how she had come, 

Even as comes the flower, 
The last and perfect added gift 

To crown Love's morning hour ; 
And how in her was imaged forth 

The love we could not say, 
As on the little dewdrops round 

Shines back the heart of day. 

The morning-glory's blossoming 

Will soon be coming round, — 
We see their rows of heart-shaped leaves 

Upspringing from the ground ; 
The tender things the winter killed 

Renew again their birth. 
But the glory of our morning 

Has passed away from earth. 

Earth \ in vain our aching eyes 

Stretch over thy green plain ! 
Too harsh thy dews, too gross thine air, 

Her spirit to sustain ; 
But up in groves of Paradise 

Full surely we shall see 
Our morning-glory beautiful 

Twine round our dear Lord's knee. 

Maria Lowell. 


Another hand is beckoning us, 

Another call is given ; 
And glows once more with angel-steps 

The path which reaches heaven. 

Our young and gentle friend, whose smile 

Made brighter summer hours, 
Amid the frosts of autumn time, 

Has left us with the flowers. 

The light of her young life went down, 

As sinks behind the hill 
The glory of a setting star, — 

Clear, suddenly, and still. 

As pure and sweet, her fair brow seemed 

Eternal as the sky ; 
And, like che brook's low song, her voice, — 

A sound which could not die. 

And half we deemed she needed not 

The changing of her sphere, 
To give to heaven a shining one, 

Who walked an angel here. 

The blessing of her quiet life 

Fell on us like the dew ; 
And good thoughts where her footsteps pressed, 

Like fairy blossoms grew. 

Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds 

Were in her very look ; 
We read her face as one who reads 

A true and holy book. 

We miss her in her place of prayer. 

And by the hearth-fire's light ; 
We pause beside her door to hear 

Once more her sweet " Good-Night ! '* 



There seems a shadow on the day, 

Her smile no longer cheers ; 
A dimness on the stars of night, 

Like eyes that look through tears. 

Alone unto our Father's will 

One thought hath reconciled; 
That he whose love exceedeth ours 

Hath taken home his child. 

Fold her, O Father ! in thine arms, 

And let her henceforth be 
A messenger of love between 
Our human hearts and thee. 

Still let her mild rebuking stand 

Between us and the wrong. 
And her dear memory serve to make 

Our faith in goodness strong. 

And grant that she, who, trembling here, 

Distrusted all her powers. 
May welcome to her holier home 

The well-beloved of ours. 

/. G, Whittier^ 

'mz 'm^Xz\)t^ J^tx 2Sreat!)fna. 

We watched her breathing through the night. 

Her breathing soft and low. 
As in her breast the wave of life 

Kept heaving to and fro. 

So silently we seemed to speak, 

So slowly moved about. 
As we had lent her half our powers 

To eke her living out. 

Our very hopes belied our fears, 

Our fears our hopes belied, — 
We thought her dying when she slept. 

And sleeping when she died. 


For when the morn came dim and sad, 

And chill with early showers, 
Her quiet eyelids closed, — she had 

Another morn than ours. 

Thomas Hood, 

2rf)e 3lent Setoels. 

In schools of wisdom all the day was spent ; 

His steps at eve the Rabbi homeward bent, 

With homeward thoughts which dwelt upon the wife 

And two fair children who consoled his life : 

She, meeting at the threshold, led him in, 

And with the words preventing did begin, — 

" Ever rejoicing at your wished return, 

Yet do I most so now ; for since this morn 

I have been much perplexed and sorely tried 

Upon one point which you shall now decide. 

" Some years ago a friend into my care 

Some jewels gave ; rich precious gems they were ; 

But having given them in my charge, this friend 

Did afterward nor come for them nor send, 

But left them in my keeping for so long 

That now it almost seems to me a wrong 

That he should suddenly arrive to-day 

To take those jew^els which he left, away. 

What think you ? Shall I freely yield them back, 

And with no murmuring — so henceforth to lack 

Those gems myself, which T had learned to see 

Almost as mine forever, mine in fee ? " 

" What question can be here ? Your own true heart 

Must needs advise you of the only part ; 

That may be claimed again which was but lent, 

And should be yielded without discontent ; 

Nor surely can we find herein a wrong, 

That it was left us to enjoy it long." 


" Good is the word," she answered. " May we now 

And evermore that it is good allow ! " 

And rising, to an inner chamber led, 

And there she showed him, stretched upon one bed, 

Two children pale ; and he the jewels knew 

Which God had lent him and resumed anew. 

R. C. Trench. 


There is no flock, however watched and tended, 

But one dead lamb is there ! 
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, 

But has one vacant chair ! 

The air is full of farewells to the dying, 

And mournings for the dead ; 
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, 

Will not be comforted ! 

Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions 

Not from the ground arise, 
But oftentimes celestial benedictions 

Assume this dark disguise. 

We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; 

Amid these earthly damps. 
What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers 

May be heaven's distant lamps. 

There is no Death ! What seems so is transition ; 

This life of mortal breath 
Is but a suburb of the life elysian, 

Whose portal we call Death. 

She is rot dead, — the child of our affection, — 

But gone unto that school 
Where she no longer needs our poor protection, 

And Christ himself doth rule. 

In that grear cloister's stillness and seclusion, 

By guardian angels led. 
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, 

She lives, whom we call dead. 


Day after day, we think what she is doing 

In those bright realms of air ; 
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing, 

Behold her grown more fair. 

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken 

The bond which nature gives. 
Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken, 

May reach her where she lives. 

Not as a child shall we again behold her ; ■ 

For, when with raptures wild 
In our embraces we again enfold her, 

She will not be a child, 

But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion. 

Clothed with celestial grace ; 
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion 

Shall we behold her face. 

And though, at times, impetuous with emotion 

And anguish long suppressed, 
The swelling heart heaves, moaning like the ocean 

That cannot be at rest, — 

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling 

We may not wholly stay ; 
By silence sanctifying, not concealing. 

The grief that must have way. 

a H. W, Longfellow, 


O Christ of God ! whose life and death 

Our own have reconciled, 
Most quietly, most tenderly, 

Take home this little child ! 


Thy grace is in her patient eyes, 
Thy words are on her tongue ; 

The very silence round her seems 
As if the angels sung. 


Her smile is as a listening child's 
Who hears its mother call ; 

The lilies of thy perfect peace 
About her pillow fall. 

She leans from out our clinging arms 
To rest herself in thine ; 

Alone to thee, dear Lord, can we 
Our well-beloved resign ! 

Oh, less for her than for ourselves 
We bow our heads and pray; 

Her setting star, like Bethlehem's 
To thee shall point the way. 

/. G. Whittier, 

3liftet» ©ber. 

As tender mothers guiding baby steps, 
Where places come at which the tiny feet 
Would trip, lift up the little ones in arms 
Of love, and set them down beyond the harm, 
So did our Father watch the precious boy, 
Led o'er the stones by me, who stumbled oft 
Myself, but strove to help my darling on : 
He saw the sweet limbs faltering, and saw 
Rough ways before us, where my arms would fail ; 
So reached from heaven, and lifting the dear child, 
Who smiled in leaving me, he put him down, 
Beyond all hurt, beyond my sight, and bade 
Him wait for me ! Shall I not then be glad, 
And, thanking God, press on to overtake ? 


Fold reverently the weary hands 

That toiled so long and well ; 
And while your tears of sorrow fall 

Let sweet thanksgivings swell. 

That life-work stretching o'er long years 

A varied web has been ; 
With silver strands by sorrow wrought, 

And sunny gleams between. 

How bright she always made the home 1 

It seemed as if the floor 
Was always flecked with spots of sun. 

And barred with brightness o'er. 

The very falling of her step 

Made music as she went ; 
A loving song was on her lip, 

The song of full content. 

O gently fold the weary hands 

That toiled so long and well ! 
The spirit rose to angel bands, 

When off earth's mantle fell. 

She's safe within her Father's house 

Where many mansions be ; 
O pray that thus such rest may come 
Dear hearts, to thee and me ! 


2o6 THE AGED, 

3Seauliful JB^antrjsf. 

Such beautiful, beautiful hands ! 

They're neither white nor small, 
And you, I know, would scarcely think 

That they were fair at all. 
I 've looked on hands whose form and hue 

A sculptor's dream might be. 
Yet are those aged wrinkled hands 

Most beautiful to me. 

Such beautiful, beautiful hands ! 

Though the heart was weary and sad. 
These patient hands kept toiling on, 

That the children might be glad. 
I almost weep, as looking back 

To childhood's distant day, 
I think how these hands rested not 

When mine were at their play. 

Such beautiful, beautiful hands ! 

They''re growing feeble now ; 
For time and pain have left their mark 

On hand and heart and brow. 
Alas ! Alas ! the nearing time. 

And the sad, sad day to me, 
When 'neath the daisies, out of sight, 

These hands will folded be. 

But oh, beyond this shadow-lamp, 

Where all is bright and fair, 
I know full well these dear old hands 

Will palms of victory bear. 
Where crystal streams, through endless years, 

Flow over golden sands. 
And where the old grow young again, 

I'll clasp my mother's hands. 

Ellen H. M. Gates, 




They sat in peace in the sunshine, 

Till the day was almost done, 
And then, at its close, an angel 

Stole over the threshold-stone. 

He folded their hands together ; 

He touched their eyelids with balm, 
And their last breath floated outward. 

Like the close of a solemn psalm. 

Perhaps in that miracle-country 
They will give her lost youth back, 

And the flowers of the vanished springtime 
Will bloom in the spirit's track. 

One draught from the living waters 
Shall call back his manhood's prime, 

And eternal years shall measure 
The love that outlasted time. 

But the shapes that they left behind them 

The wrinkles and silver hair — 
Made holy to us by the kisses 

The angels hold printed there — 

We will hide away 'neath the willows, 

When the day is low in the West, 
Where the sunbeams cannot find them, 

Nor the winds disturb their rest. 

And we'll suffer no telltale tombstone, 

With its age and date, to rise 
O'er the two who are old no longer, 

In the Father's house in the skies. 

Louise Chandler Moulton. 

2o8 THE AGED. 


She waited for the summons ; lengthening days 
Had ripened the rich harvest of her years; 
The sun hung low ; — across the level plain, 
In the slant rays, ripe bent the bearded grain. 
Her feet were weary, and, with faltering hands. 
She bound the golden tribute of the lands. 
We watched the coming night w^ith tender fear ; 
She murmured to herself good words of cheer ; 
We followed, gleaning ; toil, and heat, and dust 
Forgotten, in her perfect faith and trust. 
We followed, gleaning : all the night 
We heard her voice thank God, in cheerful praise, 
For this dear life, and all its happy days ; 
Then there was silence, and we found at dawn 
Only the faded garments she had worn. 

2rj)e (BUs i[Han^5JFu^erall. 

I saw an aged man upon his bier ; 

His hair was thin and white, and on his brow 
A record of the cares of many a year, — 

Cares that were ended and forgotten now. 
And there was sadness round, and faces bowed, 
And w^oman's tears fell fast, and children wailed aloud. 

Then rose another hoary man, and said, 
In faltering accents to that weeping train : 

" Why mourn ye that our aged friend is dead ? 
Ye are not sad to see the gathered grain : 

Nor when their mellow fruits the orchards cast, 

Nor when the yellow^ w^oods let fall the ripened mast. 

" Ye sigh not when the sun, his course fulfilled, — 
His glorious course, rejoicing earth and sky, — 

In the soft evening, when the winds are stilled, 
Sinks where his islands of refreshment lie. 

And leaves the smile of his departure spread 

O'er the warm-colored heaven and ruddy mountain-head. 


" Why weep ye then for him, who, having won 
The bound of man's appointed years, at last. 
Life's blessings all enjoyed, life's labors done, 

Serenely to his final rest has passed ; 
While the soft memory of his virtues yet 
Lingers, like twilight hues when the bright sun is set. 

" His youth was innocent ; his riper age 

Marked with some act of goodness every day ; 
And watched by eyes that loved him, calm and sage, 

Faded his late declining years away : 
Meekly he gave his being up and went 
To share the holy rest that waits a life well spent. 

"That life was happy; every day he gave 

Thanks for the fair existence that was his ; 
For a sick fancy made him not her slave, 

To mock him with her phantom miseries. 
No chronic tortures racked his aged limbs, 
For luxury and sloth had nourished none for him. 

" And I am glad that he has lived thus long, 

And glad that he has gone to his reward ; 
Nor can I deem that Nature did him wrong, 

Softly to disengage the vital cord ; 
For when his hand grew palsied, and his eye 
Dark with the mists of age, it was his time to die." 

W. C. BryafiU 

Twilight falls : a tiny maiden 

Cometh up the village street: 
Vagrant locks, all dewy laden. 

Eager eyes and tired feet 
Hath the shadowy little maiden. 

Tired of wandering and of playing, 

Up the dim street see her come ! 
Hurrying now, and now delaying, 

Toward the rest and love of home, 
Comes the maiden from her playing. 


See ! again ! a woman hasting 
Down a shadowy, sunset way, 

Loving, anxious glances casting 

Through the twilight soft and gray; 

Homeward, love-ward she is hasting. 

Laughing children run to meet her 
From the home-door open wide ; 

Loving words and kisses greet her, 
Pattering feet run by her side ; 

All the home comes forth to meet her. 

Look once more ! a pilgrim weary 

Standeth in the twilight gray ; 
All around is strange and dreary, 

As she asks, with plaintive query, 
" Can you show the homeward way ? 

Lead me homeward : I am weary." 

Then a Presence stood to guide her. 
Pointing where the way did lie ; 

Gently spoke, and walked beside her 
To a gateway dim and high. 
" Home ! " she breathed, with restful sigh, 

To the Presence that did guide her. 

Homeward still, the tiny maiden, 
Motherhood, love- and care-laden. 
Age, with weight of years oppressed, 
Homeward turn for love and rest. 
And the home, with open door. 
Waits with " Welcome '' evermore. 

• W. H. Savas^e. 


Poems ^narked thus (*) have been printed 07ily in part. 

After our child's untroubled breath 

A little fold of hands 

*A11 as God wills, who wisely heeds 
All that God wounds he constantly is healing 

^Another hand is beckoning us . . . 
Answer me, burning stars of night 
A snowflake falls from out the air above 
As tender mothers guiding baby steps . 
At eve it shall be light, the promise reads . 

*A white dove out of heaven flew 

Beside a massive gateway built up in years gone by 

Blindfolded and alone I wait 

Brother, the angels say 

Buried to-day 

^Children are God's Apostles 
Climbing the mountain's shaggy crest 
Come forth, come forth with solemn song 

Dead ! do you say that he is dead ? 
Drifting away like mote on the stream 
^Dropping down the troubled river 
Dust to dust, the heart makes cry 

*Farewell ! since nevermore for thee 

Father, before thy footstool kneeling 

Father, into thy loving hands 
*Fear death ? — to feel the fog in my throat 














*Fold reverently the weary hands 
From this bleak hill of storms 

Gentle friends, who gather here . 
*God gives us love ; something to love 
*God giveth quietness at last 

God of the living, in whose eyes . 

Good-bye, till morning comes again 

He does well who does his best . 
*He has done the work of a true man 

He sees when their footsteps falter 

He who died at Azan sends 
*Her still and quiet life flowed on 

*I cannot, cannot say 
*I cannot make him dead 

I cannot think of them as dead 
*I do not come to weep above thy pall 

If one had watched a prisoner many a year 
*" If ye loved me," Jesus said 

I had a little daughter . 

I hear it singing, singing sweetly 

I lay me down to rest . 

I like that ancient Saxon phrase 

In schools of wisdom all the day was spent 
*In the Baron's hall of pride . 

Into the silent land 

I saw an aged man upon his bier 

Is it so far from thee ? . 

I think if thou couldst know 

I think it is over, over . 

It singeth low in every heart 

It was a tender hand that drew my boy away 
*I will not mock thee with the poor world's common 

I will not think the last farewell we hear 

Life and thought have gone away 
Life ! I knov/ not what thou art . 
Life of our life, and light of all our seeing 



*Nothing is our own, we hold our treasure 

O blessed life of service and of love . 
O Christ of God! whose life and death 
Of all the thoughts of God that are 
Oh, deem not they are blessed alone . 
*Oh for the peace that floweth like a river 
*Oh may I join the choir invisible 
*Oh, yet we trust that somehow good . 
One adequate support .... 
*0 strong soul, by what shore . , 
*0 thicker, deeper, darker growing 
Our beloved have departed . 

Quiet from God ! how beautiful to keep 
Rest, gentle traveller, on life's toilsome way 

Servant of God, well done ! . 

She waited for the summons, lengthening days 

Since thy Father's arm sustains thee . 

Sleep, tired cue, sleep .... 

Sometime, when all life's lessons have been 

Straight and still the baby lies 

Such beautiful, beautiful hands 

Take them, O death, and bear away . 
The baby wept ..... 
The dead are like the stars by day 
*The face which duly as the sun . 
The fragrance of the rose 
The little feet that never trod 
There is a Reaper whose name is Death 
There is no death ! The stars go down 
There is no flock, however watched and tended . 
There's not an hour but from some sparkling beach 
They sat in peace in the sunshine 
Those we love truly never die .... 
Thou that art strong to comfort .... 



1 68 


















To pass through life beloved as few are loved . 
To weary hearts, to mourning homes . 
Twilight falls, a tiny maiden .... 

Until we meet again, that is the meaning . 

We know not what it is, dear .... 
We must not doubt, or fear, or dread . 

*We need some charmer, for our hearts are sore . 
We watched her breathing through the night 
We wreathed about our darling's head 
What shall I do with all the days and hours 
What may we take into the vast forever 
What did we ask with all our love for him 
Where the mountains slope to the westward 

*Who is the angel that cometh ? Life ! 
W^hy shouldst thou fear the beautiful angel Death ? 

*Wilt thou not ope thy heart to know ? 

*Within this lowly grave a conqueror lies 

*Within the maddening maze of things 










Reference is made to the following books : — 

Putnam. Singers and Songs of the Liberal Faith. [Boston. Roberts. 

Schaff & Oilman. Library of Religious Poetry. [N. Y. 1881. 

Quiet Hours. 2 vols. [Boston. Roberts. 

Bryant. Library of Poetry and Song. [N. Y. 1872 

Chadwick, J. W. Poems. [Boston. Roberts. 
Household Edition — Poems of Longfellow, Whittier, Lowell, Bryant, Alice 

and Phoebe Gary. [Boston, Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 

Sunshine in the Soul. 2 vols. [Boston. Roberts. 

Hymns of the Ages. 3 vols. [Boston. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 
Revised Hymn & Tune Book. [Boston. Amer. Unitarian Association. 

Memory and Hope. [Boston. Ticknor & Fields. 1851 

Sunday Book of Praise. Golden Treasury Series. [London. Macmillan. 

Proctor, A. A. Poems. [Boston. 1880. 

Verses, by " H. H." ^ [Boston. Roberts. 

Sursum Corda. [Boston. Roberts. 1877 

Hosmer and Gannett. The Thought of God. [Boston. Roberts. 1885 

Brooks, C. T. Memoir and Poems. [Boston. Roberts. 1885 

Hemans, F. Poems. [Boston. 1833. 

Lyra Americana. [N. Y. 1865. 

Shadow of the Rock. [N. Y. Randolph. 
The Changed Cross. 
Palace of the King. 
The Chamber of Peace. 
Uplands of God. 
Cheering Words. 


Funeral Hymn JV. J^. Alger, 

"The worlds that shine above us nightly." 

Putnam, 471 
Prayer and the Dead . . . . N, L. Frothingham. 
" They passed away from sight and hands." 

Putnam. T02. Quiet Hours, I., 149. 
Mortal and Immortal . . . » R. C, Watterson, 
" I stand between the Future and the Past." 

Schaff & Oilman, 302. Putnam, 403 



Sealed Orders J- W. Chadwick. 

" Our life is like a ship that sails some day." 

Poems, 136. Putnam, 518 

He AND She Ediuin Arnold. 

" She is dead," they said to him. 

Schaff & Oilman, 859 

After the Burial . . . . . . . LoivelL 

" Yes, faith is a goodly anchor." 

Poems, 353 
The Cloud on the Way .... . Bjyajzt, 

" See, before us in our journey." 

Poems, 250 

Qua Cursum Ventus A. H. ClougJu 

'* As ships becalmed at eve." 

Poems, 33. Quiet Hours, I., 69 
(Friends separated by long absence, reunited.) 

Compensation C. P. Cranch. 

" Tears wash away the atoms in the eye." 

Schaff & Oilman, 936 

Now and Afterwards D. M, Midock, 

" Two hands upon the breast." 

Poems, 134. Bryant, Library, 177 

The Vanishers Whittier. 

'* Sweetest of all childlike dreams." 

Poems, 321 

The River Path Whittier. 

" No birds's song floated down the bank." 

Poems, 284 

The Future Life Bryant, 

" How shall I know thee in the sphere ? " 

Poems, 183 

Death of a Christian J- D- Burjis. 

" The apostle slept — a light shone in the prison." 

Shadow of the Rock, 20 
Coming ....... Barbara Macandrew. 

" It may be in the evening." 
(Death's uncertainty.) Schaff & Oilman, 649 

The Sower R. W. Gilder. 

" A sower went forth to sow." 
(The mission of pain.) Schaff and Oilman, 826 

How Beautiful to be Alive ... H. S. Sutton. 

" How beautiful it is to be alive ! " 

Sunshine in the Soul, I., 94 
He Leads His Own . . . . Hymns of the Ages. 

" How few who from their youthful day." 
(The unexpected lot.) Sunshine in the Soul, I., 89 


Come, ye Disconsolate Moore, 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 858 

In the Other World H. B. Stowe. 

" It lies around us like a cloud." 

Shadow of the Rock, 51 

The Two Worlds Dublin Univ. Mag. 

" Two worlds there are. To one our eyes we strain." 

Shadow of the Rock, 133 

Nunc Suscipe, Terra Prudentius. 

" Receive him, Earth, into thy harboring shrine." 
(At the grave.) Book of Praise, 318 

Mortality . . . . . . Mrs, Muloch-Craik. 

" Ye dainty mosses, lichens gray." 
Hymns of the Ages, II., 240. Poems Old and New, 188 1. 56 

Hymn During the Plague . . . . Prof. Wilson. 

" The air of death breathes through our souls." 

Schaff & Oilman, 132 
The Other Side . . . . . . . Alice Cary, 

" I dreamed I had a plot of ground." 

Poems, 135 
The Verdict of Death ... . . Mrs. Charles, 

" How doth Death speak of our Beloved t " 

Quiet Hours, IL, 181. The Changed Cross, 150 

From " In Memoriam," xcii. .... Tennyson. 

" How pure at heart and sound in head." 

Quiet Hours, I., 150 

Homeward Horatius Bojtar. 

*' To my beloved ones my steps are moving." 

Palace of the King, 11 

There L. C. Monlton. 

" Do any hearts ache there, beyond the peaceful river ? " 

Palace of the King, 141 

The Dead H. Alford. 

" The dead alone are great." 

Memory and Hope, 52 
The Angel at the Tomb . . . . S. F. Adams. 

" The mourners came at break of day." 

Memory and Hope, 66 
Incompleteness . . . . . . A. A. Proctor. 

" Nothing resting in its own completeness." 

Poems, 53 

The Resurrection Klopstock, 

" Arise, yes, yes, arise, O thou my dust." 

Schaff & Oilman, 774 


A Little Way Anonymous, 

" A little way — I know it is not far." 

Chamber of Peace, 20 
The Path of Death . . . . . . . Faber. 

" How pleasant are thy paths, O death ! " 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 693 

Spinning . . . "• H. H'' 

" Like a blind spinner in the sun.'' 

Quiet Hours, I., 59. Verses> 14 


Hymn of Trust O. W. Holmes, 

" O Love Divine, that stooped to share." 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 725 

The Last Look O. W. Holmes. 

" Behold ! not him we knew." 

Putnam, 258 

" Still will we Trust though earth seems dark and 

DREARY." Burleigh. 

Putnam, 316. Rev. H. & T. Book, 875 

Here and There Alice Gary, 

" Here is the sorrow and sighing." 

Poems, 160 

Palingenesis. (Last 3 stanzas.) . . . . Lo7igfello'w. 
*' Into what land of harvests." 

Poems, 317 

" Still, still with Thee." . . . . H. B. Stowe. 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 764 

The Mystery of Life S. Greg. 

" Slowly, slowly darkening." 

Sursum Corda, 265 

The Day is Done A7iony??totis. 

" The day is done : soft as a dream." 

Sursum Corda, 269 

I Will not Fear /a7te Roscoe. 

" Thy will be done ! I will not fear." 

Sursum Corda, 29 

God Knoweth Anonymous. 

" I know not what shall befall me." 

Sursum Corda, 123 

The Pillar of the Cloud N'ewmaji. 

" Lead, kindly Light ! " 

Rev. H. & T. Book, ^T^ 



"There is a land where beauty cannot fade." Uhland. 

Hymns of the Ages, III, 57 

Intimations Alice Gary. 

" There is a hovering about me." 

Poems, 138 

Of One Flesh Phoebe Gary. 

"A man he was who loved the good." 
(For an imperfect, erring life.) Poems, 291 

A Little While Greville, 

" A little while, and every fear." 

Hymns of the Ages, IL, 141 

A Little Longer Ghr. Register, 

" A little longer yet, a little longer." 

Hymns of the Ages, IL, 237 

Faith W. H. Hurlbut, 

" We will not weep, for God is standing by us." 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 734 

United by Death A. P. Stanley. 

" Till Death us part." 
(For a loving husband and wife.) Uplands of God, 23S 

He Giveth Songs in the Night . . John Page Ho^ps. 

" We praise thee oft for hours of bliss." 

Shadow of the Rock, 93 
The Dead ........ Anonymous, 

" Thou God of Love ! beneath thy sheltering wings." 
(At the grave.) Hymns of the Ages, III., 281. Book of Praise, 318 

A Dying Hymn Alice Gary. 

" Earth with its dark and dreadful ills." 

Poems, 160 

All Saints' Day Mrs. Mulock-Graik. 

" I shall find them again, I shall find them again." 

Poems Old and New, 484 

Death Ano7iymous. 

" There are who fear thy summons. Death ! " 

Hymns of the Ages, II, 241 

Green Pastures and Still Waters . . W. G. Gannett. 
" Clear in memory's silent reaches." 

The Thought of God, 37 

A First Sorrow A. A. Procter. 

" Arise, this day shall shine." 

Poems, 49 

Friend Sorrow A. A. Procter. 

" Do not cheat thy heart and tell her." 

Poems, 8 


From Chaxge to the Unchangin;; . . . M. Fanningham, 

" Slow move the feet amid life's lengthening shadows." 
(An old country home.) Uplands of God, 145 

The Gathering Place .... Christian Worker, 
" I know not where, beneath, above." 

Uplands of God, 207 

My Triumph Whittier, 

" The autumn-time has come." 
(What a hopeful man might wish said at his grave.) Poems, 351 

Looking unto God S. Longfellow. 

'' I look to thee in every need." 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 624 

A German Trust Song Lampertus, 

" Just as God leads me I would go." 

Sursum Corda, 93 
Trust and Submission .... Andrews Norton. 
" My God, I thank thee." 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 724 

When .'' , . . . . . . . Stcsa^i Coolidge. 

" If I were told that I must die to-morrow." 

Schaff & Gilrnan, 19. Sunshine in the Soul, II., 140 

Blessed are They that Mourn .... Burleigh. 
'' Oh deem not that earth's crowning bliss." 

Putnam, 317 
" Forever with the Lord." .... Montgomery. 

Rev. H. «& T. Book, 700 

The Meeting Place Anonymous. 

" Where the faded flowers shall freshen." 

The Changed Cross, 9. 
My Times are in Thy Hand ..... Waring. 
" Father, I know that all my life." 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 502 

The Love of God Bryant. 

" All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away." 

Poems, 149 

From " In Memoriam." Tennyson, 

" Strong Son of God, immortal Love." 

Quiet Hours, II., 193 
God's Presence the Source of All Joy . . Dessler. 
"O Friend of souls, 'tis well with me." 

Quiet Hours, IL, 150 

Flight of the Spirit . . . . . Mrs. Hemans. 
^' Whither, ob, whither wilt thou wins; thy wav?" 

Qmet Hours, IL, 188 


I Move into the Light Anonymous. 

" Out of the shadows that shroud the soul." 

Palace of the King, loi 

Lent, not Lost Aiionymous. 

" All is not lost that's passed beyond our keeping." 

Palace of the King, 123 

No More Mrs. Gaskell. 

" No more, on earth no more." 

Memory and Hope, 105 

"While Thee I seek, protecting Power." H. M. Willmms. 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 238 

*' Nearer, my God, to Thee." . . . . S. F. Adams, 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 621 

The Eternal Years Faber. 

" How shalt thou bear the cross that now." 

Unity Hymns and Chorals, 142 

Death . . . Anonymous. 

" Out of the shadows of sadness." 

Cheering Words, 190 

Memory of H. N. S C. T. Brooks. 

" This is not all, — this fleeting world we see." 

Poems, 147 

Death of a Young Artist . . . . C, T. Brooks. 
" The breath of morn and May." 

Poems, 152' 

God Knoweth Best F. H. Marr. 

" He took them from me, one by one." 
(Trustful through many afflictions.) Chamber of Peace, 114 

''At Noontide came a Voice." . . . Dora Greenwell. 
(A woman in prime of life.) Sursum Corda, 273 


In Memoriam. H. T. Tuckerman . . . C. T. Brooks. 
" O friend, endeared to heart and mind." 

Putnam, 362 
In Memory of R. H. . . . . . C, T. Brooks. 

" Lamb of God's fold ! '' 

Putnam, 369 

Charles Sumner Longfellow. 

"Garlands upon his grave." 

Poems, 358 


The Soul's Parting Dora Greenwell. 

" She sat within life's Banquet Hall at noon." 

Sursmn Corda, 275 

Death and Spring J- IV. Chadwkk. 

" My noble friend is dead/' 

Poems, 131 
Memoriae Positum. (In part.) . . . . Lowell. 

** Why make we moan } '* 

Poems, 381 

A Knight-Errant A. A, Procter. 

"Though he lived and died among us." 
(Truth's Warrior.) Poems, iZ 

Follen. (In part.) Whittier. 

" Oh, while life's solemn mystery glooms." 

Poems, 96 

A Lament Whittier. 

" The circle is broken, one seat is forsaken." 

Poems, 135 

Joseph Sturge. (In part.) Whittier, 

" Thanks for the good man's beautiful example." 

Poems, 238 

The Blessed Life W. T. Mason. 

" O blessed life ! the heart at rest." 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 233 

In Memoriam . Gerald Massey. 

" Why should we weep w^hen 'tis so well with him ? " 

A Tale of Eternity, etc., 135 

Death of a Christian Mrs. Hemans. 

" Calm on the bosom of thy God." 

Rev. H. &T. Book, 715 
" Brother, thou art gone before us." . . Mihnan. 

Book of Praise, 322 

A Happy Death John Drydeji. 

*' As precious gums are not for lasting fire." 

Quiet Hours, II., 163. Book of Praise, 169 

Safe Alice Gary. 

*' Ah, she was not an angel to adore." 

Poems, 137 
" Plow blest the Righteous when he dies." . Barbauld. 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 730 
Character of the Happy Warrior . . Wordsworth. 
" Who is the happy Warrior ? Who is he ? " 

"The Good, — they drop around us, one by one." 

Isaac Williams. 
Quiet Hours, II., 166 



Afontgo77i ery. 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 756 

Tribute to Bishop Heber .... Mrs. Hemans. 

" If it be sad to speak of treasures gone." 
(A wise and useful man.) Poems, B. 1833, ^-5 ^^7 


Decoration T. W. Higginson. 

" 'Mid the flower-wreathed tombs I stand." 

Scribner's Monthly, June, 1S74. Putnam, 483 
(For a woman heroic in suffering.) 

Resting in Hope H. Bonar, 

" Rest for the toiling hand." 

Rev. PI. & T. Book, 702 

Bear out the dead Haven. 

" Av, carry out your dead." 

Schaff & Oilman, %Z6 

Rest Enpheniia Sax by. 

" It was Thy will, my Father." 

Quiet Hours, I., 144 

The Gate of Heaven .... Disciples Hyi?in Book, 

" She stood outside the gate of Heaven." 
(For an ill life.) Quiet Hours, I., 162 

*' Ah, well! she had her will." 

Sursum Corda, 279 
(For one who suffered secretly, and was misunderstood.) 

On his bllndness Milton, 

(For one blind.) 

" Thou Knowest, Lord, the weariness and sorrow." 

Jane Borthwick, 
Sursum Corda, 30 

From " Miriam." Whittier. 

" Wherever through the ages rise the altars of self-sacrifice." 

Poems, 342 

"Going Home." Ajwnymous. 

" ' Heimgang ! ' So the German people." 
(For a German family.) Uplands of God, 53 

The Sweet Surprise. (In part.) . . . Anonymojts. 

" Down to the borders of the silent land." 
(For one who lingered.) Uplands of God, 69 


The E'en brings a' Hame Anonymotts. 

" Upon the hills the wind is sharp and cold." 

Shadow of the Rock, 68 

Gone Home ........ Anoiiyuiozis. 

" Gone home ! She lingers here no longer." 

The Changed Cross, 211 

Called Aside ....... Anonymous. 

" Called aside, — from the glad working of thy busy life." 

Palace of the King, 94. 

Good-night ........ Anonymous, 

"If I could only lay me down to rest." 

Palace of the King, 130 

Our Calvary F. P. Cobbe. 

" God draws a cloud over each gleaming morn." 

Unity Hymns and Chorals, 148 

The Chamber of Peace Anonymous. 

" After the burden and heat of the day." 
(The serenity of the dead.) The Chamber of Peace, 5 

Charlotte Cushman C. T. Brooks. 

" For wast not thou, too, going forth alone." 

Poems, 141 


The Death of Children . . . - /- Q- Adams. 

" Sure to the mansions of the blest." 

Putnam 12 

" She is not Dead, but sleepeth." .... Fiimess. 

Putnam, 165 

To J. S W.W. Story. 

Poems, 1856, 228 

The Child's Picture F. E. Abbot. 

" Little face, so sweet, so fair.'' 

Quiet Hours, I., 155 

"Childish Feet are straying homeward." 

Bartholomew, "The Comforter." 

\Vhere? J- ^V. Chadivick. 

"That is her body lying there." 

Poems, 145 

Kinsman IVhittier. 

" Where ceaseless Spring her garland twines." 
(One dying away from home.) Poems, 392 


Lines to the memory of " Annie." . . H, B. Stowe. 
" In the fair gardens of celestial peace." 

Bryant's Library, 176 

Suffer little Children ...... Eli?n. 

"They are going — only going." 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 751 

The Discoverer Sted?nan. 

*' I have a little kinsman." 

Schaff & Oilman, 879 

Fire John Keble, 

" Sweet maiden, for so calm a life." 
(An elder sister.) Book of Praise, 204 

A Dead Baby Mrs. Mulock-Craik. 

•' Little soul, for such brief space that entered." 

Poems, Old and New, 123 

Dying, and yet living Theo. Tilton. 

" She died — yet is not dead." 

Lyra Americana, 213 

Early Lost, Early Saved . . . Geo. IV. Bethune, 

" Within her downy cradle there lay a little child." 

Lyra Americana, 222 

She Came and Went Lowell. 

"As a twig trembles when a bird." 

Poems, 90 

My Lambs Anonymous. 

" I loved them so." 

The Changed Cross, 78 

At a Death Bed C. H. Ball. 

" Dear eyes, that never looked reproach." 

Putnam, 533 


" A cloud is on my heart and brow." 

Memory and Hope, 33 

Mabel A. R. W. 

" Like broken thoughts in dreams." 

Memory and Hope, 102 

Two . . . . .... . Cha7?ibe7'''s Journal. 

" Two buds plucked from the tree." 
(For twin children.) Shadow of the Rock, 142 

DiRGE FOR a Young Oirl J- T> Fields. 

" Underneath the sod low lying." 

Bryant's Library, 190 


Herman ' . J. F. Clarke. 

" Where is my boy ? " 

Memory and Hope, 58 

" When the Baby died " //. J7. 

Schaff & Gilman, 876. Verses, 100 

^' Child with the Snowy Cheek." . . PV. H, Savage. 

Savage's Minister's Handbook, 100 

Threnodia . Lowell. 

"Gone, gone from us." 

Poems, I 


The Finished Life M.J. Savage. 

"There's a beauty of the Spring-time." 

Savage's Minister's Handbook. 

In Memory ........ Anonymous. 

" Close, kind hands, the aged eyes." 

Songs of Two Worlds, 131 

Only Waiting Anonymous. 

" Only waiting till the shadows." 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 746 

" Servant of God, well done ! " . . . Montgomery. 

Rev. H. &T. Book, 711 

Ripe Wheat Anonymous. 

" We bent to-day o'er a coffined form." 

Cheering Words, 71 

Grace of God Eliza Scudder. 

" Thou Grace Divine, encircling all." 

Rev. H. & T. Book, 304 


O Thou before whose sight all generations of men pass 
over to their rest, to thee alone can we turn in this hour. 
Amid all life's changes thou art the same forever, and 
thy years shall have no end. Thou art the source of all 
life. Thou art the Power above all powers and Lord of 
Death. To thee we come, who dost clothe the grass of 
the fields and mark the falling sparrow. To thy unfail- 
ing compassion we look, thou who dost note thy chil- 
dren's pain and grief. We bring these empty hearts, 
this loneliness, this sorrow, and lay them at thy feet. 
Thou knowest it all, our Father, and because thou know- 
est, canst help us. Comfort us with thy love, greater 
than a moth3r's love for her child ! Send thy pity to 
lighten the darkness ; send thy patience that we may 
bear this trial bravely. Touch these wounds with thy 
hand of healing, and help us to be still. 

Almighty Father, give us of thy strength that we may. 
take up our lives more bravely for the sake of this dear 
one who has now done with earth. May we learn to be 
faithful in duty, thoughtful, tender of others, loyal to the 
service of holiness and truth, because of those who can 
work no longer here on earth. May we think not of our 
loss, our suffering, but of their release, of the peace that 
rests upon this mortal body, and the freedom wherein the 
soul has now found a higher joy. 

Grant, we pray thee, the faith that these ties of affec- 
tion — the holiest thing thou givest us to know — can 
never perish. Wheresoever this dear friend may go, he 
can not be forgetful of us, and henceforth we are no 
more strangers to the life beyond since these have entered 
to make it home. 

Now, Almighty Creator, into thy hands we commend 


the spirit thou didst give. We thank thee for the mem- 
ory of his life* No longer can we care for him ; but 
thou wilt care for him better than our love could do. 
By pastures green and by quiet waters, into new realms 
of purity and love and truth, into new and higher labors 
in thy service thou wilt lead him. Cherish and keep 
him, we pray thee, and through ways unknown to us 
bring him at last nearer to thy Presence, O God of the 
Living and the Dead ! 

And when we, too, are called to bid farewell to this 
world of love and beauty, of joy and sorrow, grant that 
we may follow after him. Grant that our love may grow 
stronger in these years of absence. Bring us, if it be thy 
purpose with us, bring us together again where we may 
know each other better. May we trust the highest 
instincts of this human heart, telling us that the love 
which conquers death is forever immortal. We ask in 
the memory of Jesus, our Elder Brother. In memory 
of his tender heart, his courage and purity, we would 
be lifted up into his peace, and learn with him to pray : 
Thy will, not ours, O God! Thou didst give, and thou 
hast taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord ! 

^ c. /. s. 

O Thou who art the Beginning and the End of all 
lives, in whom the living live and the dead sleep, grant 
that we in the presence of death may feel that our true 
life is in thee. Thou who hast made us as we are made, 
to love life, and to grieve and suffer in the presence of 
death, be near to us when we call upon thy name, feeling 
in that presence we have no help save in thee alone. It 
is our comfort and consolation in turning our hearts to 
thee, when they are made heavy by sorrow, that thou 


art greater than our hearts and knowest all things. 
When our grief is too great to be uttered, and our need 
is more and deeper than we know or can express, thou 
knowest it altogether. Thy hand, Father Almighty, 
has fashioned the ties that bind us one to another in love 
and friendship, and when those ties are broken by death, 
that which we have to suffer is known to thee alone. 
We desire to feel, though we cannot know that thy will 
in trouble and affliction is not to punish us but to bless 
us ; that alike in all we are born to sulTer in our affec- 
tions, and in all the happiness and enjoyment we derive 
from them, the pity and goodness of the Highest are 
manifested and expressed. We desire in our darkest 
hours to trust thee, and against doubts and fears that test 
us and perplex us, to cling to the belief that all is for the 
best, not meant to crush us or to extinguish our hopes 
and desires for those we love and for ourselves, but to 
work out for them and for us good beyond our belief 
and hope. 

When our faith is weak, and heart and flesh faint and 
fail, good Lord, have mercy upon us ; in thy mercy 
remember us ; in thy pity visit us, that in the thought 
of thy pity we may be saved from despair of ourselves. 
Thou knowest how hard it is for us to assure ourselves, 
when those ^ve love better than life are taken from 
us, that we are not forgotten or disownei by Him that 
made us, that our loss is not all loss, and our suffering 
and anguish not all vain and fruitless. Our affections 
cling to that which is earthly and familiar to us, so that 
it is hard for us to think and feel that our beloved dead, 
whose faces we shall no more behold, ars still with thee, 
and that in thy presence and dominion death hath no 
more dominion over them. 


Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord 
pitieth them that fear him. Even as we are moved by 
pity for the weak, and downcast, and sorrowful, so our 
hearts assure us it must be that He who is the highest of 
all must be the best of all, pitiful and compassionate 
beyond our belief and hope, to all that lives and breathes. 

Grant, our Father, that we may in all trouble that is 
darkest and deepest, find in this revelation of thyself 
within us, thy consolation ministered to us, and thy light 
lifjhtenino: our darkness. 

Help of all the sorrowful. Comforter of all that mourn, 
we remember in thy presence , those whose share in the 
sorrow we feel this day is heaviest and sorest. Comfort 
them by the sympathy of friends, and much more by thy 
grace. Consecrate this sorrow for all of us who have 
part in it, and grant that even what is darkest and most 
mysterious in it, may not be without profit in showing us 
and opening for us the path of life. 

We remember in thy presence, now and here, all the 
children of sorrow, above all those whose sorrow like 
ours this day, is for the dead, concerning whom their 
souls refuse to be comforted. In the darkness and mys- 
tery in which their lives are shrouded, may light arise 
for them, and shine upon them from the sympathy of 
their kind, much more from thee the First and the Last, 
thou whose tender mercies are over all thy works, who 
knoweth our frame, who remembereth that we are dust.